Four
by SinisterSnowflake
Summary: On his deathbed, Light Yagami makes a deal with a strange deity that sends him spiraling through time. Jumping throughout the Fourth Dimension, Light needs to find a way to fix all his past mistakes before "Kira" dies once more. After all, he only has one more chance to make things right... But what happens when his idea of right and wrong starts to change? (Cross-posted on Ao3)
1. Chapter 1: Deal

**Chapter 1**

 **Deal**

* * *

.

 _"Sayu, what are you doing?" Light Yagami asked as he watched his younger sister slip on a pair of bright blue boots. She was practically vibrating with energy. "You know you can't go outside by yourself, right? Mom said to wait until she got home from the store."_

 _Tears bubbled up in Sayu's eyes, and she looked up at her brother with a frown. "Does she need to know…? I mean, you're here with me, aren't you, Light?" She clasped her gloved hands together and allowed a single bead of water to streak down her cheek._

 _Light sighed. There was no way he could say no to her now, and she knew that. "Fine. But only for a little while, okay?" He closed his school notebook and began to slip on his jacket. "If we see Mom's car, we run back inside immediately, got it?" He waited for her to nod before unlocking the door._

 _Without a second thought, Sayu jumped through the doorway and out into the yard, throwing herself into the fluffy white snow that densely covered the earth. Her tears were forgotten, and a toothy grin spread across her face._

 _"Thank you so much, Light! You're the best big brother ever," she giggled, her voice muffled by the snow. Light couldn't help but smile._

* * *

.

At first, Light thought he'd been stung by a pissed off bumble bee. A ridiculous assumption, considering the visual cues, but an assumption made by his tired brain nonetheless.

There was hardly any real pain at first; just a small amount of pressure that turned to numbness. He recognized the blood, but, even after that acknowledgment, he felt nothing. Looking back on it, he could hardly say that he was in control of his own actions. He felt stupid, as if he went completely out of control, as if he fell sharply into mania. _Desperation and fear_ , he decided. _The primal instinct of survival._ In fact, he didn't quite remember what it was that he'd been so set on doing in those last few moments.

It was now, after he'd actually processed the gunshots, that the pain settled in.

A fitting timing, Light supposed. He'd long since stopped gasping for air. The stinging was warm, and it felt almost like a blister would... if that blister's impact was about ten times worse with a reach that extended throughout the entire body. He could tell that he was going to die even without looking at all the blood. All he could do now was to hope to pass out before things got worse.

Of course, Light's prayers went unanswered. He expected as much, even with his current state of lightheadedness. Even so, it was a harsh enforcement of reality. He probably would've kept laying there in that disgusting warehouse, pain resonating throughout his limbs, if mercy hadn't found him first.

If you had told Light years ago, back when he had first picked up the Death Note, that karma could end up being a good thing for him someday, he wouldn't have believed you. As it turned out, he was thankful for the karma that came from his life of murdering with heart attacks. It wasn't a sharp pain in his chest or an invisible force that prevented him from breathing. Actually, he didn't feel anything at all. It simply was that one moment he was living, and the next, dead. In the end, he was content with that.

Except he wasn't dead. Not really, anyways. If anything, it was the world around him that had died, as if nothing else mattered now that he was gone... as if everything had ended with him. All that remained was an eerie stillness.

Light didn't move; not at first. Whether from extreme blood loss or because of a delusion brought upon by the pain, he couldn't tell. Sudden apathy prevented him from even trying, a feeling that came when you realized nothing you did ended up mattering. A swift impulse bubbled up from the deepest corner of his mind, and he opened his eyes on a mere whim.

At first, it appeared that nothing had changed. He was still lying on the same staircase, stuck grounded to the steps. The musty scent of iron hung in the air, aromatic evidence of the blood that had soaked his clothes to his skin like wet paper. He wondered if this was purgatory, if he was doomed to stay still in pain with this unchanging world for all eternity.

What a fool he was, thinking that things would stay the same.

"Hey, are you awake? Don't tell me that you're giving up already." A sigh. "I must say, I'm pretty disappointed in you, Light Yagami."

Under any other circumstance, Light would've actually worried about hearing voices in his head. But here, lying half-dead across an old staircase, covered in blood, he felt no need for concern. In fact, he highly doubted that he could care about anything at all, given his current state.

"C'mon, what happened to the super-ambitious kid who wanted to become a god?" the voice mocked. "Get up."

Get up? Was it morning? He wasn't late to anything, was he? No, that'd be stupid. Pain ricocheted throughout his body as he tried to move his head, and he eventually gave up. Silence followed his struggles, and he almost kid himself into believing he was waking up from a nightmare. That everything would get better, given time.

"Sa...Sayu?" Light asked the empty air around him. He shook his head, a disorientating action he immediately regretted. If he wasn't acting delusional before, he sure was now. How much blood had he lost? Did Ryuk kill him already, or had something else happened entirely? He cursed his wavering train of thought. "Ryuk, that's you, right? Can… can you—"

"No, I'm not Ryuk. And I'm certainly not your sister," the voice sighed. "You're quite pathetic right now, huh?" Light supposed he was, but, then again, there wasn't much he could do to help it. "Wow, I guess bullet wounds really hurt? I wouldn't know."

Light groaned. "Ryuk, stop playing games." He should be dead right now. Why wasn't he dead? He was no fool; even an idiot could tell when they had no more hope of living. He couldn't remember how many times he'd gotten shot, or if he'd actually had a heart attack. It wouldn't surprise him if he was hallucinating at this point. "Why am I alive? Aren't you going to kill me?"

"Kill you? Why would I want to do a thing like that? You've been so fun to watch, and I don't want it to end here. I may not be Ryuk, but I'm still not going to stop playing games."

"So, I guess I'm headed off to purgatory, then, Not-Ryuk?" he asked, voice tinged with curiosity. He curled his palms into fists. "I was told that humans who use the Death Note can go to neither heaven nor hell when they die." Most of the pain was starting to dissipate, and with that came a clearer brain. He was in some state of living, that much he could tell for sure. Why, and how, were two questions he needed the answers to.

"They go to MU," Not-Ryuk corrected, "and that applies to all humans, not just those who use the Death Note. Lucky for you, though, because you are alive. No need to concern yourself with the idea of an afterlife right now." A pause of consideration. "Can you stand, or are human bodies really that weak? I thought I'd healed you all up, but you still seem in pain."

Light wanted to yell out, 'No shit, Sherlock,' but held back his tongue. He slipped his hands under himself and stood up with care, wobbling as he stepped down from the staircase. There was no one nearby, and he started to believe that he really was losing his mind.

"The pain is going away, I guess," he commented, resting his hand against the wall to stabilize himself. His clothes were still filled with holes, dusted with gunpowder, and saturated with blood... but otherwise, he was feeling much better. Well, as good as he could be in his situation. "What's MU? Better yet, why don't you tell me why you've spared my life?" _And how_ , he thought, but that could wait until later.

He'd heard of shinigami lengthening human lifespans before. It was what Rem did for Misa when she killed L... it was a fact he had relied upon to set his plan into motion. He'd never imagined a shinigami doing that for him before, but it must've been what Not-Ryuk did. After all, how else could Light's death have been prevented?

Yet, for some reason, Not-Ryuk wasn't a pile of debris.

"MU is MU," Not-Ryuk replied, as if that answered everything. "And, I didn't save you. I stopped time. That's a lot easier than changing fate or nullifying a Death Note, you know." Full of disbelief, Light turned to look out the window. True to those words, even the crows had stopped fluttering through the sky mid-flap.

"So you aren't a shinigami?" Light inquired, brows furrowing in thought. He didn't recall Ryuk mentioning anything about shinigami being able to freeze time. Although, it wouldn't be odd if that bloke forgot to mention it. "What are you, then..? My crazy personified? Am I dreaming all this up while I lay choking on my own blood at the brink of death?"

"At least you acknowledge your insanity," Not-Ryuk laughed. "You aren't dreaming, and you aren't dying anymore. As for me, I'm... Call me Dai. Anyways, don't go thinking too hard right now, what with your frazzled state of mind. It would be awful if your little brain went into override right now. We have a lot to talk about, and I don't like repeating myself."

"Wait… Dai? As in the kanji for 'topic' or 'title'?" It was after he said this that he realized how pointless it would be to try and figure out the spelling of a name that belonged to someone who could stop time. It's not like he could kill a being like that, even if he were to have the Death Note on him. "Nevermind, just… habit."

Not-Ryuk... Dai hummed. "Yes, let's go with that. 'Title'... Makes me sound important. Rightfully so."

"Well, Dai, what do you want from me? You wouldn't have gone through the trouble of stopping time for a lowly human such as myself if there wasn't anything in it for you," Light said. He lay his back against the wall and slumped down to the floor. His head still ached, a pain worse than when he attempted to explain math problems to an unwilling Sayu.

"It's nothing big. Just a favor, if you will," Dai said. "And you aren't exactly 'lowly', now are you, Mr. I-Will-Become-The-God-Of-The-New-World." At this, Light rolled his eyes from under his lashes, which caused the time-stopper to laugh. "You aren't one for small-talk, I take it. I'll cut to the point, then. Light Yagami, I have a proposition for you. That is, if you're curious and willing enough to listen."

Light thought for a moment, trying to choose his words with care. "Do I have any other options?"

"There's always MU, if you aren't interested in my offer," Dai teased. Of course, Light was interested. He was very interested, and it appeared that Dai knew that fact all too well, judging by how there was no wait for an answer. "I want to give you the chance of a lifetime. Of all lifetimes."

"What do you mean?"

"You can't fix your past self, but that doesn't mean you can't change everything else," Dai explained. "Don't you agree?"

"Yes..?" Light replied, unsure of the direction this conversation was heading in. This seemed to make the time-stopper frustrated, and Light was set immediately on edge. He really didn't want to die again.

"What I mean is: I'll give you the chance to start over, to go back and change the way things were… granted that you abide by a few new rules. It'll be fun, I promise." A pause. "Do we have a deal?"

"I..," Light began, debating his options. "I don't have a choice, do I?" He wondered if he actually did. But, the thought only crossed his mind briefly, and he didn't have enough incentive left in him to latch on. He was curious, so much so that he doubted he'd even enjoy the other options if there were any.

"I need you to say it aloud, Light Yagami," Dai requested, speaking the way a patronizing teacher would to a misbehaving student.

"Fine," he sighed. "Deal." He wasn't happy with the way things had ended at the Yellow Box, and that was a severe understatement. If he was going to be given a chance to change things in his favor, you better believe he'd take it.

.

* * *

 _"Why'd I do it? Oh, come on, guys! The Old Man used to always mention how interesting humans were. Sometimes wouldn't even shut up until someone said something. I wanted to see the buzz for myself. It's boring here. It's not boring there. The answer is obvious, you dumbasses."_

 _~Ryuk, June 7th, 2004_

* * *

.

 **A/N:** I have big plans for this fic! Although a majority of it is outlined, I have yet to type it all up. I currently have two chapters on reserve, but I take a very long time to write. We're talking 2-3 hours spent on a couple hundred words, and that's only when I am able to find time in the first place... yikes!

So, regarding updates... Once every other week seems to be my goal. Any changes (early update, chapter rewrite, real-life issues, etc.) will usually be warned of ahead of time. I'll update my FFN profile (same name: SinisterSnowflake) with more information (maybe with a schedule of some kind?) if you really want to know something.

Also, keep in mind that I don't have a beta reader, and, even though I edit like crazy, some things can slip under my radar. If I have any typos or if something is worded oddly, please let me know and I will fix it asap!

...In hindsight, I should've prepped more chapters ahead of time, but I'm impatient. Plus, a friend of mine really wanted me to swallow my nerves and post, so I did. I hope you enjoy this work even if the updates take me a while! Best wishes~ :)

 _(Side note: I will be removing all A/N's besides this one and that of the latest chapter with every update.)_


	2. Chapter 2: Sweet

**Chapter 2**

 **Sweet**

* * *

 _._

 _Sayu Yagami was not stupid. She wasn't as socially inclined as her brother, and she'd admit to being a little bit slow on the uptake at times. But she was not stupid._

 _It didn't bother her, living in her brother's shadow. She didn't feel upset when their parents fussed over Light rather than her. She could care less when girls at school asked her about her big brother. She didn't even mind getting average grades if it meant fewer expectations._

 _What did bother her, however, was Light._

 _After living with someone your entire life, you tend to pick up on their behavioral tics. Sayu wasn't good enough to know when Light was lying, but she could tell when he felt stressed or anxious. If it wasn't obvious enough in the way his voice hung in the air, it was in his eyes; a constant anger and frustration._

 _It scared her sometimes, realizing that she could very well be the only person in the world who saw this in him. She knew that he could get scary like that every once in a while, but she'd never realized how fast he could go downhill._

 _It was at the start of January when she first realized what was happening. He was talking a lot more and doing things he otherwise wouldn't do. Even his eating habits changed. It was as if he'd decided to put on a show and was acting for some hidden audience. There was no truth in his smile, no life in his eyes. She began to feel like Light was no longer her Light. But, in the end, there was no way she'd ever voice her concerns, no matter how great they'd get._

 _After a while, Sayu decided that it would be best to give her big brother some space. Something huge was going through his mind, something that he needed to sort out. After all, there was no way she could help a genius like him. All she could do was that he'd come to her eventually, that he'd tell her what was wrong once he felt better._

 _He switched back to normal almost as suddenly, and she began to feel silly for worrying in the first place._

* * *

.

The warehouse was cool, the air stinging Light's skin as he walked up the bloodstained staircase. His lungs burned and his legs had long since gone limp, but he persisted on nonetheless.

"Where does it go?" he questioned the empty air around him. "Because, in case you were wondering, everything still hurts. I feel like I'm walking around with pins and needles stabbed into my skin. I hope you're not having me hike all the way up here for no reason." He tried his best to sound nonchalant, but his discomfort was obvious.

Dai didn't seem to be in the mood to respond, which was fine by Light. At this point, he doubted he was running on anything more than adrenaline; An extensive and/or fruitless conversation didn't interest him. What did interest him, however, was what Dai had said earlier. Despite being a disembodied voice, to give Light the chance to start over was... Well, the opportunity seemed almost too good to be true. And yet, here he was, believing every word of it.

He wasn't sure when the atmosphere changed since he started walking. It was only after he no longer felt a cold burn in his lungs that he realized how different his surroundings had become. It was like the entire world had faded into white nothingness. The horizon seemed to stretch out forever, leaving nothing but a flat, endless void.

"What is this place?" Light asked, stopping in his tracks. "The Shinigami Realm?"

"No. The Shinigami Realm isn't nearly as pretty as this, I can assure you of that. Besides, do you see any shinigami? Of course not. They don't make for good company, and I only talk to them when I have to." In terms of uneventful conversations, this one was verging on the edge of utter pointlessness. Light didn't care how fun it was to talk to shinigami. He knew that much from personal experience.

"Normally I would dodge around the question until everything ended up spelled out for me, but... You seem to be just as stubborn as me," Light began. He rubbed his eyes, a little disoriented by the bright white emptiness. "You aren't a shinigami, but you've been watching the battle between L, his successors, and I. You're a god of some sort, I'm guessing. Care to tell me what a god could have to gain from helping me?" It sucked, having to refer to something else as a god. He would've liked to ignore the title... if it wasn't the one he'd tried so desperately to obtain for himself.

"I was wondering when you'd stop being so prideful and ask," Dai said, laughing. "What you're seeing right now is the fourth dimension. Or, rather, your perception of a small portion of the fourth dimension. Sadly, that doesn't include me. Normally only shinigami can perceive realms like this—and even then they can't see all of it—but I've made an exception with you. You now have the eyes of a shinigami, free of charge, no strings attached!

"Anyways, the point is that we're going to play a game. It'll be much better and far more entertaining than the one Ryuk arranged, guaranteed. I'm going to send you, Light Yagami, back in time."

Light stopped walking. "So you meant what you said about giving me the chance to change things, huh?" It wasn't a question, more like an affirmation of sorts. "What are the conditions?"

"Oh, I have no idea. I'll probably end up making most of them on the fly." _Great._ Light was playing a game of chess with rules he didn't know. "Well, I suppose if I had to pick one that'd be fun, at least for right now, it'd be… No killing. With the Death Note. Yes, that sounds good. You aren't allowed to use the Death Note in any way that shortens lifespans."

Light folded his arms. "Then, there are other ways to shorten lifespans?"

"Of course. Death Days aren't set in stone; they can change depending on the actions of humans around them. You're free to influence these changes however you see fit... but no Death Note. Of course, that's assuming this rule will even apply to you. You may never touch another Death Note again. I'm certainly not giving you one, and you can pretty much figure out what that means."

"If I want to get a Death Note I'll need to steal it from either my past self or Misa," Light deduced. "Although, if you won't let me kill with it, then there isn't any point in me taking it in the first place." _Unless Past-Self decided to do something stupid_ , but the chance of that seemed so small that he immediately dismissed the idea.

A hum. "It's nice, explaining things to a genius. Sure beats talking to shinigami."

Colors started to ripple across the ground, startling Light. The scent of jelly-filled pastries filtered through the air, followed by that of freshly cut grass. He heard people laughing, crying, and screaming as their voices echoed around him like thunder. It took him a few minutes to fully process what was happening, and even longer to make sense of it all.

"A timeline?" he asked, shifting his feet side-to-side to get a better look at the now painted ground. It was himself, lying across the staircase, gagging as blood raced down his throat. He felt sickened and turned his head away.

"You guessed it! Walk forward and you'll find events in the past," Dai explained, chipper. _But going backwards won't reveal the future after this moment_ , Light supposed.

He moved along the streams of images with awe. It was fascinating, and he was reminded briefly of all the times he'd skip to the last page in a book before deciding if it was worth a read. If he were to be honest, the last page in his story fell flat. Granted, he may be biased, but the ending was outright disappointing. He was both horrified and ashamed of the events leading up to his death. Thankfully, things were going to be different this time. He'd make sure of that.

"Pick something already," Dai complained, bringing Light out of his thoughts. "I'm getting bored over here." Ah, boredom. The catalyst that started everything. Light wondered if Dai would kill him should he prove to be uninteresting. Of course, he had no plans of being a further bore, especially considering how well things went with Ryuk. Still, it would help to know where he stood.

"You seem to forget that I've been shot multiple times," Light said, trying to hide his usual sarcastic chime. "I'm exhausted, both mentally and physically. In fact, if I didn't fear death, I'd probably ask for a nap."

"I'm not interested in killing you, Light Yagami."

"I didn't ask that."

"You implied it."

Light considered. "Not interested, or not interested yet?" Dai's silence confirmed his suspicions. He would've pressed for more if he hadn't once more frozen mid-stride. "What's with the smell?"

He'd spent enough time with a certain sweets-loving detective to know what strawberry cake smelled like. Unlike the earlier scents of pastries and plants, this one was far, far stronger. Not only that, but the memories that followed were less than pleasant.

"Stronger senses indicate stronger moments. Sounds, scents, colors… The louder and richer they are, the more influential the event. In other words, such a powerful smell tells me that sometime nearby something big is happening," Dai said. Light had a feeling he knew what that meant, and his eyes locked on the image below his feet.

Through the translucent ground, a figure hunched over, pulling a portion of pink cake closer to its keyboard. Stacks of paper were scattered haphazardly around the computer, along with numerous plates that were all licked clean. The only source of illumination in the windowless room emanated from the screen, giving its occupant a surreal glow.

"That's…" Light breathed. He was unsure of whether he should feel annoyed or upset upon seeing the detective's face again. He was so used to reminding himself that, _yes, L is dead now_. Seeing him alive again felt… odd.

"Yup! Judging by your spot in the timeline, I'd say this is when he first began investigating the Kira case." Light watched as L proceeded to thumb through a manila envelope. He pulled out a document and lifted his entire arm higher as he read each line of text. "What does cake taste like?" Dai asked suddenly, sounding genuinely curious.

"It was always too sweet for me," Light said, walking forward once more. His gaze never once drifted back to L. "I never bothered to eat it again after my sixth birthday."

"You're too subjective," Dai said. "Besides, cake could always change its flavor. It may be worth trying again."

Light narrowed his eyes. "What are you trying to say? A chocolate cake isn't ever going to taste vanilla, and I'm not a fan of chocolate." He had the distinct feeling that they weren't talking about actual cakes anymore.

"Put more sugar in it."

"I told you already: I don't like sweet things."

"And here I thought I'd get a better response from you."

He caved in. "Putting more sugar in something won't deny the fact that it was originally unsweetened." Judging from Dai's thoughtful hum, that was a sufficient answer. Good. He wasn't in the mood to philosophically banter.

"What are you looking for?"

"Misa," Light said distractedly. "I want her out of the picture. If her parents are never killed by that burglar in the first place, I won't have to deal with her." He watched his feet as he walked, analyzing everything that happened below with heightened interest.

"Isn't she the only reason L died? Rem wrote down his name. You don't get Rem if you don't get Misa. They're a double package. Unless, of course, you could read and write the language of shinigami."

Light had picked up Rem's Death Note as soon as she'd turned to dust. He might not have been able to read the names written in there, but… "I've memorized it; the way his name was written. Line-by-line." There was no real reason for the effort. Frankly, he'd thought it was stupid of him to waste his time tracing his finger over the name, at first. Turned out, it would come in handy. He realized that the Death Note was off limits, but that rule only bound him, not his past self. If he could—

There was a sharp cry, and then the sound of a gunshot, which caused Light to freeze up. Below, a woman was fighting off a man with a knife. She pushed him into the hallway and ran behind her husband, her long blonde hair bobbing behind her. Her torso was already drenched in blood; it was obvious that she didn't have much time left, despite what her husband was yelling at her. Light didn't need to watch to figure out what happened next.

"Can you send me here, in whatever city they're in, a few days before this happens?"

Light would never admit to screaming when he was pushed head-first through the floor.

.

* * *

" _I always knew he didn't love Misa. That thought was always there in the back of my brain. But I still smiled and hugged him and gave him Misa's undying affection. Because if he was going to pretend that Misa was his goddess, you better believe that Misa was going to be the best damn goddess she could be._

" _I guess I should've known that I'd end up getting just as attached as Misa was in the process."_

 _~Misa Amane, her suicide note, February 14th, 2011_

* * *

.

Oh, how Light wished he could've brought his laptop along with him.

"Why is this thing so slow?" he yelled, tempted to slam his fist against the table. Several heads turned to look at him, and he bowed his head apologetically. _Right, no yelling in a library,_ he reminded himself.

"Are you that surprised?" Dai asked, chuckling. Apparently, the time-stopping god could only be heard in Light's head, much like Ryuk. It was weirder, in Light's opinion, to talk to a disembodied voice. Ryuk could at least make eye contact. "You're familiar with technology years more advanced than this. It makes sense that a library's computer would be slower than your home laptop, especially since— Hey, look! Cake."

A woman a few years older than Light sat down at the desk across from him. The cover was adorned with pictures of brilliantly decorated cakes. She moved her forefinger along the pages, tracing across the recipes in a cookbook. With her other hand, she took notes, all in English.

"I'm not checking out a cookbook so you can stare at images of cakes," Light whispered. He leaned in further towards the computer screen to hide his mouth from anyone nearby.

It appeared that the burglar who killed Misa's parents had an M.O., and was only interested in wealthy foreigners' vacation homes. They'd already stolen from four other families, all of which weren't at home during the incident. Thus, Misa's parents were present when the thief decided to rob them. When people find themselves confronted in unfamiliar situations, rash actions always follow.

Light didn't remember the name or face of this criminal. After meeting Misa, he never bothered to check who they were or what their motives had been. He'd felt that there was no real point in doing so; The results were right there in front of him, and results were all that mattered. In hindsight, it was foolish of him to think that way.

"Of course you won't," Dai huffed. "You'll check out a cookbook so that you can make the cakes for me. Then I can stare at real cakes instead of the photographs. Doesn't that make more sense?"

"Fine," Light drawled, "I'll check it out. But I'm not baking you a cake. I don't cook." He stood up from the computer and walked over to the woman's chair, putting on his best smile. She didn't notice him right away, but he didn't mind. "Excuse me, miss?" he asked in English.

"Yes?" she replied turning to look up at him. "Sorry, do you want to sit here? I can move if—"

"Ah, no, that's okay. I was wondering if you planned on checking that book out?" She shook her head but showed no sign of handing it over. He resisted the urge to sigh and pulled over a chair, sitting down next to her. "My name is Light Yagami. I'm here from Japan visiting some friends."

"Rose," the woman supplied. Light's eyes flickered to space above her head. 'Clara Felts.' "I live here. I would check this out if I could, but I don't have a card on me. I'm sorry, but could you let me finish writing this down? You're welcome to have it after me." She pulled her crochet purse closer to her legs, and he noted the beautiful baby blue pattern. _She must be skilled to make something like that._

Light laughed. "Well, to be honest with you, I don't have a card either. I'm hoping that the process to get one here is quick." 'Rose' eyed him but smiled back nonetheless. "Go ahead and finish, I don't mind waiting," he added. She resumed her scribbling, working faster than before.

So, a random woman at an American library was using a fake name. Light wondered why Clara Felts needed to be so cautious. He'd already traded in his bloodstained clothes for a much more casual crew-neck and jeans. Furthermore, not even his family could tell when he strained a smile. He shouldn't look like anything other than an eager young tourist. Yet, the woman who called herself Rose glanced up at him every now and then, pressing her pencil harder into her notepad with every stroke.

.

* * *

" _I told you, Momma. I don't want that dress. It makes me look stupid."_

" _Misa, honey, you just asked if we could buy it."_

" _Misa wants it."_

" _Honey, make up your mind, please. Do you want the dress or not? It's your birthday; you can pick. Maybe a different color? We don't h— Misa, why are you crying? What's the matter, sweetheart?"_

" _Momma, I'm starting to think that I'm not me."_

 _~Mariko and Misa Amane, December 25th, 1990_


	3. Chapter 3: Bloom

**A/N:** I would like to thank everyone who has favorited, and/or followed! Special shout-out to my reviewers, MadelyneBlue, Proxy57, and Albinos. It warms my heart to know so many people enjoy what I write.

* * *

.

 **Chapter 3**

 **Bloom**

* * *

.

 _"Are human apples really that amazing, Ryuk?" Misa asked, her hands drawing hearts in the dirt under the trees. She started to trace the initials of her name in, going over them again and again._

 _Ryuk scoffed at her. "'Amazing' doesn't even begin to describe how wonderful they are! I swear human apples are a blessing. You and your species don't deserve them." He hunched further over, inspecting the doodles with mild interest. "I would marry apples if I could," he said goofily. Misa sat up and smiled at him, her knees covered in soil._

 _"Aw, haha, Ryuk~! Misa thinks you're so cute!" She leaped against him and strung her arms around his neck, nuzzling her head against his bony chest. "Misa likes you a lot! You're good to her Light and you listen to her questions. Misa thanks you for that!" Ryuk stiffened under her weight._

 _"Heh, is that so? So, then, what do_ you _think?" he wondered aloud, watching as she pulled apart from him. She fidgeted, unsure of how to respond, before locking eyes with the shinigami before her. Her demeanor had paled, and her dark red lips now contrasted her face far more than before._

 _"I think it's silly of you to let Light manipulate you with apples. You shouldn't let anyone stand in the way of your love! Yet..," she trailed off, frowning, "you never bothered to demand_ for _apples when he was under surveillance. No guilt-tripping, no puppy eyes, no threats. You didn't try, even with how happy apples make you." Misa paused and tilted her head to the side mechanically. "Do you really love apples?"_

 _"Harsh. I like Misa better." Ryuk chuckled and curled into himself, his eyes glowing. He hadn't intended for it to be an insult, though, and winced when Misa's eyes dulled further. It wasn't out of regret or fear; No, Ryuk was beyond such feelings. Rather, the last thing he needed was for Light's plan to be in a mess from something he said. That would be boring… or would it?_

 _Luckily, Misa didn't seem to notice, or, at the very least, she didn't care. "Most people do… And Misa likes you better, too, Ryuk!" she chirped, a smile returning to her face. She bent down and brushed the earth off her clothes. "Now, then, Misa needs to kill L for her Light! Let's make the eye deal."_

* * *

.

Despite his best efforts, Light was getting nowhere. Other than the thief's disinterest in anyone who wasn't foreign, there was nothing that could form a solid profile. He didn't see a pattern in the timings of the break-ins, and he'd yet to find any evidence that suggested a grudge was held against any of the victims. All Light discovered was how easy breaking into a vacation home could be; Most of the time—and especially during the colder seasons—the occupants were never home.

"This book only has two cake recipes in it. What a rip-off," Dai complained. The cookbook in question had been laid out to the side of the mahogany table, flipped open to the table of contents. "What about all the other ones on the cover..? Don't tell me they decorated the same cake with different styles of frosting."

"You should at the very least enjoy those," Light said, sure to keep his voice down. He'd returned to speaking in Japanese, but that didn't mean he'd take the risk of being labeled 'crazy'. "Clara Felts was very kind to finish transferring those recipes to her notepad that fast. I was tempted to get up and leave, but she worked quickly." He hovered over his newly-bought notebook with a highlighter. The coffee had long since grown cold, but the calm atmosphere of this CAFEEL branch was more than enough to keep him there. Luckily, he'd managed to find a seat in the back corner where no one would notice him 'talking to himself'. Or, at least, that was the plan.

"She was a chocolate, then."

"I'm sorry?"

"You didn't like her."

Light rolled his eyes. "She gave me a false name for no apparent reason. Can't say I wasn't insulted." He flipped to the next page in the spiral, smoothing his hand over the assortment of news-clippings. The library's printer had been cheap to use, something he was grateful for.

Dai hummed again. Apparently, that was a habit, one that had started to annoy Light. "Well, it's almost the end of day one. Have you found anything?"

"No, nothing big yet. I can't figure out the motive, selection process, or lo…" _Aha._ "The break-ins all occurred here in Orlando. That means our suspect most likely lives nearby." _But that isn't much to go on_ , his brain reminded him. He stirred his coffee, eyes narrowed.

"Nearly two hundred thousand people live in Orlando, Florida right now," Dai supplied. "So, your chances of finding this robber are about 0.0005%." Light could feel his headache growing worse.

"Well, about forty-three million people lived in the Kanto region of Japan when L first broadcasted his confrontation. He had a 0.000002% chance of narrowing his suspect list down to one person. Which, in case you forgot, he did." Bitterness swelled inside him at the memory, and he caught himself scowling at his coffee.

 _It should've been impossible. L is impossible, just like his pathetic successors._ Then again, Light only had himself to bla— No, no, he wasn't responsible. After all, he was a kindhearted person, a model member of society. He was the perfect son, a wonderful big brother, and a charming young man. No… he was beyond such simple terms. Much like his father, he believed in justice, but he wasn't nearly as naive. He realized that it wasn't enough to catch evil; you had to destroy it for good. If no one else came to this conclusion, then surely that meant he was destined to take matters into his own hands. It was his purpose in life to rid the world of evildoers.

He was the _sine qua non_ of a new world. Without a god, without him, there would be no future for humanity to look forward to. Everything should've worked in his favor. But, in the end, he'd been shot by a clueless imbecile who was no better than a lemming.

 _It was L's fault_ , he decided. It was L's fault for riling him up, for forcing his hand to move in ways he didn't want. He was the reason Light had died and was now stuck overwhelmed and exhausted in America with no clue how to proceed. _Damn him to MU._

Smiling sickly, Light closed his eyes. "This is nothing compared to that," he decreed, relaxing the tension that had built up in his muscles.

"I see. You 'beat' L, so therefore, you can solve this case? Someone's confident."

Light chose to ignore that. "I already know that Misa's parents were killed by a man, thus our suspect must be male. If fifty percent of the world is male, then that leaves around one hundred thousand suspects. This gives me a 0.001% chance.

"Guns aren't illegal to carry in America; In fact, guns are plentiful here. Sixty-four percent of people use guns to commit crimes than anything else. It's the preferred weapon. Under the assumption that our suspect had the means to get a gun, but chose against it, I now have a 0.003% chance.

"Misa has only recently started her model career, if I remember anything from her long-winded ramblings. She's probably on vacation with her parents here in Florida. For her safety, it makes sense to assume that none of her fans know her location. Furthermore, the culprit has also already robbed from several other families. The suspect likely has no relation to Misa." He paused, closing the notebook as he took a sip of cold coffee. "The U.S. Department of Justice covers home invasions. Offenders were strangers to the victims twenty-eight percent of the time. Blur a few lines, and I have a 0.01% chance. See? Already that's significantly better than L had it, if you ask me. And—"

"Uhm, sir?" someone asked. Light opened his eyes to a worried barista looking down at him. His uniform's cap shadowed part of his face, leaving Light to search for a name-tag instead. 'Dean'. "Sorry, but it's almost closing time."

"Oh, of course," Light laughed sheepishly. "I seem to have lost track of time!"

Dean the Barista was glaring at him now. "That doesn't seem to be the only thing you've lost..," he muttered, wandering away from Light's table.

Feigning indifference, Light gathered up his things into his arms. He left the empty cup of coffee on the table out of spite. It made him feel a bit better. "Thank you!" The door's bell jingled as he left CAFEEL. Fresh air was a welcome gift, even if it wasn't as pure as he was used to.

"So, now that you're done boasting about your intellectual prowess through villainous monologues… Where do you plan on staying for the night? You used up almost all the money you had on you for those new clothes and that coffee. Oh, and the library's printer and that spiral-bound weren't cheap, either," Dai said, yawing dramatically for effect.

The question had Light freeze in his tracks. _Shit._

.

* * *

 _"I think… I would've liked for us to be friends._

 _"Honestly, he scared the shit out of me when we first met. There was something about him that was so off-putting. I responded calmly, though, with my alias, just like that. Yet, for some reason, I felt like he'd seen through me._

 _"It sucks to feel so transparent."_

 _~Clara "Rose" Felts, phone diary entry, May 19th, 2003_

* * *

.

"I need money," Light stated, keeping his voice as calm and collected as possible. "That, and technology from the future." He was at an Internet Cafe this time, the scent of pizza mixed with soda making his eyes water. Painted glow-in-the-dark starts adorned the walls, and, although most people had left by now, music was blaring at full volume. It wasn't his ideal choice, but it was the closest place nearby that stayed open throughout the night.

Dai laughed. "You're asking me for a favor now, huh?"

"Just my laptop and its case, along with all its contents. Maybe a better phone charger, too. And my earbuds, as well as my microphone. The big one that took forever to set out and hook up." He stretched, hoping this clarification would be enough. "Trust me, this will make things go by a lot smoother. You said you were getting bored, right? That's because I'm being forced to move slow. I could pick up the pace if I didn't have to resort to library computers and shady Internet Cafes to get what I need." Dai started to hum, and Light crossed his fingers, hoping that was a good sign.

"Fine. But you need to get a job."

Light's face went blank. "What?"

"I like seeing you suffer. I'll give you your toys—no problem there—but you still need money, right? Get a job and move on with it. Be more productive with your life, because you aren't going to get another one. I've already stopped your death once; I won't do it again." Dai seemed unusually snarky, which worried Light. If boredom made the deity that frustrated, there was no telling how much trouble he was going to be in if things kept going this way. This was so… different than it had been with Ryuk.

Sighing, Light clicked the 'print' button and slid out of his chair before plodding over to the printer. He glanced around the establishment, his eyes darting around between each person in the room before settling upon the manager. Frizzy blonde hair jutted out from two long pony-tails, her messy makeup completing the ' _I don't give a shit_ ' look. 'Susan Parker', he noted, watching the red letters dance above her head. She yawned, not even bothering to cover her mouth, and Light wondered just how easy this would be.

"Excuse me," he began, walking up to the navy blue counter. The article was still printing, but the scent of fresh ink had already been drowned away by Susan Parker's perfume. "I need to pay for printing, right?" Light motioned over to the printer. Susan merely nodded, giving him nothing to go off on. "So, uh, how much?"

She finally looked up and registered him, folding her arms across her chest. "Quarter a page." Light simulated an expression of utter distress, feeling around in his pockets.

"I don't… I don't have any money!" he gasped. Susan looked like she was going to crap a brick at this new-found revelation. "Um, so I guess I'll… Are you looking for a night manager?" A cheeky smile spread across his face and he leaned closer.

"Night manager?" Susan questioned, furrowing her brows. "Are you fishing for a job?" She paused, the corners of her lips quirking up into the beginnings of an amused smirk. "You'll seriously stay up all night? For me? Working? Willingly?"

Light extended his pinky. "A beautiful girl like you shouldn't be staying up this late, anyways," he cooed, pleased upon seeing the tips of her ears tint red. "It's bad for your health to fight sleep." _As if that ever stopped L_ , Light's brain argued, but he filed the thought away. It was irrelevant.

"What's your name? And why are you broke in the first place?" Susan took a step back, flustered but determined to get an answer. His pinky-promise went ignored.

"Aru Yoru," Light lied, never missing a beat. "I'm… trying to start over, you see. I was going to pick a different job, but then I saw you, and…" He averted his gaze and laughed nervously. "'Insight is better than eyesight when it comes to seeing an angel.'" A complete and utter lie, of course, but it's not like she could ever tell the difference.

At this, she flashed him a toothy grin and pulled out a contract, sliding it over the counter. "Welcome to Pizza and Pie Internet Cafe, Mr. Yoru," she chuckled, twirling her hair around her finger. "You remind me of my friend's boyfriend. Though you have a cuter accent." Light wasn't sure if that was a compliment or not. He hadn't even realized that he'd been speaking with an accent until she'd mentioned it. God, was he really that out of it? Usually, when he spoke English, it was flawless.

"Oh-ho," Dai exclaimed. "A love triangle." _Square if you add me in, now_ , Light considered, and he resisted the urge to laugh.

"Y'know, that same friend and I have talked over the Internet since, like, forever. She and her brother moved here a couple of months ago, and we hit it off just as nicely in the real world as we did through texts," Susan continued, rambling. She fiddled around in her purse before pulling out some bubblegum, tapping her foot as Light skimmed through the application. "She met her boyfriend here in Florida, too. They started dating after finding they had the same love of the fiber arts. He's a real bad boy, though, if you know what I mean. Knitting just doesn't suit him. 'You could fry an egg on his skin if you wanted to,' she always says, 'but he'd be too busy making socks to give you the chance.'" She giggled at this and her eyes flickered to Light, looking him up and down. "You're better than him, I'm thinking." Light didn't need her to tell him that. It was a well-known fact that he was perfect in every conceivable way. Anyone who thought otherwise was either loony, dumb, or had spent too much time with L.

"What's your friend's name?" he asked, more for keeping the conversation going than out of genuine curiosity.

"Rose," she replied confidently.

Light felt his heart sink in his chest. Was she talking about Clara Felts? No, that was impossible. There are tons of people out there with the name Rose. He couldn't just run around and assume that they all led back to the woman from the library.

Susan collected the contract when he was done, glancing over it before stuffing it into one of the many drawers. He wanted to laugh at her for being so careless, but smiled at her instead. It was all too easy. Far too easy. There was something… missing.

It was after Susan left that Light was finally able to take off his mask.

.

* * *

 _"You have no soul. You're nothing more than an empty casket, forced to wander the same path over and over again until death finds you once more. You're responsible for your ignorance, your guilt, your misery. Blame no one but yourself, for it is_ greed _that you've let ruin you, and it is greed that now plagues you."_

 _~"Dai"_

* * *

.

How L managed to go days without sleeping, Light didn't know. He was having difficulty staying up a few hours past twelve.

Of course, he was used to going for a while without sleep. When he and L were handcuffed together, he got only a few hours of rest every day. The detective could never manage to be quiet enough. Despite that, he'd never pulled an all-nighter before. Even when he started college, it was never necessary. Now, however, he could now say with full confidence that this would be one of the most uncomfortable days of his entire life.

The scent of pizza had been pleasant for only several minutes after signing the contract. Currently, it made him feel like throwing up the complimentary soda. The music had been turned down the moment Susan left the building, but already he felt like buying earplugs. He honestly doubted he could stand listening to the same stupid playlist any more.

Actually, the convenience store was right across the street. Now that he thought about it, no one had come up to the counter for a while. He could probably make it before someone else—

"You have no money, remember?" Dai said, chuckling.

Light felt dumbstruck. "Can you read minds now, Dai?" he asked, rubbing his swollen eyes. He'd been going over the things Susan had said about her friend Rose in his head for the past several hours. He could now safely say that things were getting far too confusing to understand with a muddled mind. It was possible that this Rose wasn't Clara felts—and by extension, he was overthinking things—but he didn't like to believe in coincidences.

God, did earplugs seem wonderful right about now…

"Get ahold of yourself, Light Yagami," Dai huffed. "I can't read minds, but with how intently you've been staring at that shop, one might think you want to marry it."

 _Right_ , he reminded himself. _Focus on the task at hand._ The robber was still at large, and he'd yet to achieve any substantial progress with the case. He had no suspects, no connections, no clues. Then again, maybe he was expecting too much from himself. It's only been a day since he first arrived.

Nah, he could do better than this. For sure. He was going to be the god of the new world, after all.

"I think I'm going to have to visit the crime scenes in person," Light said, drumming his fingers against the side of his chair. "There's not much else I can gather from the police databases as of now."

He hated to admit it, but he was no L. Solving a case from the other side of the screen seemed impossible. Even after Dai had retrieved his laptop, hacking into the police servers turned up no further leads. He was beginning to wonder how L handled cases where law enforcement incompetence hindered progress.

"Maybe you need to send in an assistant, instead. Know anyone with ties to the police who'd be willing to help you out?" It was a joke of course; Light couldn't ask anyone from his past life for help without needing to explain more than he was willing to.

"I may just take up an alias. I could pretend to be an anonymous private detective, like L. As a plus, society's reaction to that could prove interesting. Perhaps it'll be like L vs. Kira all over again, except where both parties involved are working with the police. The tabloids would love that kind of gossip, for sure." He'd be drawing potentially unnecessary attention to himself, but he'd be damned if it wouldn't be fun. _Fun…_ "I think I have the Japanese director's phone number saved somewhere. What was his name again… Takimura?" Pulling out his phone, he began to scroll through the contacts.

Dai hummed. "Isn't that a stupid idea? What's the head of the NPA going to do about a small American robbery case?" Light pursed his lips. _Right._ He was being impulsive again, dammit.

"Do you have a better idea, genius?" he teased, a frown sculpting his futures. It was probably a bad idea to sass up to a god, but, then again, he'd done it before with Ryuk and got pretty far. Well, far enough to make some sort of impact. "I have to start somewh— huh?"

There, in the middle of his contact list, was the name 'Naomi Misora'. The fiance of Raye Penber. The sudden widow who tried to avenge her lover. The young woman he'd sentenced to suicide with the Death Note. He was fairly certain that he'd never once learned her phone number.

"Dai, why do I have the contact information of a woman I've never asked for a number from?"

"Hm, well, your phone follows a linear pattern, even though you can bring it with you while you travel through time. The same can be said for everything else but your immediate person. My best guess is that you're going to jump back to meet her, and sometime then she gives you her number. Now, in the future, you still have her info."

Light was too tired for this crap. "Why would I do a thing like that?"

"Call her and find out," Dai suggested.

Light's finger hovered over the call button. Was he seriously considering it? He glanced around at the current customers: three teens huddled together watching a gaming livestream and eating pizza, a middle-aged man browsing through several controversial websites, and a college student rushing to finish a paper before morning came. Could he afford to step aside and call a woman he'll end up killing in the name of Kira, a woman he has no idea how he met?

Yes, yes he could. It wasn't like he planned on keeping this job for a while, anyways.

Light rolled out of his chair and quickly scribbled down a note to leave behind. 'On break for five minutes. Please wait for assistance.' He walked over into the restroom and slipped his earbuds in, setting up a voice-distorting program to connect with the cord-embedded microphone. With only a brief hesitation, he tapped the green button, butterflies gnawing at his insides.

"If this ends up being a stupid mistake, I blame you," Light said, listening to the phone ring.

"Blame your sleep-deprived and/or impulsive brain, not me, Light Yagami."

He was about to fire another retort when Naomi picked up the phone.

.

* * *

 _"Humans are imperfect. Beautifully so, but imperfect nonetheless. They lie, cheat, kill. It's disgusting, how they manage to cause so much suffering and not even bat an eye. But it's not their fault; they were made this way. Evil was born within them, and they've passed it on. Social media, propaganda, evangelism. They're unknowingly corrupting each other._

 _"That's why I have to help them. I need to make them find the good within themselves. No matter what it takes, or how many people die, I have to make them see the light. It's the only way they can live together in peace. And, believe me, there will be peace. I have willed it so."_

 _~Light Yagami_


	4. Chapter 4: Call

**Chapter 4**

 **Call**

* * *

 _._

 _"Say you were walking along the sidewalk one day and ran into a big-eyed, fluffy stray dog. This dog looks up at you, and suddenly you feel an overwhelming urge to reach down and pet the poor thing. You mind screams at you, '_ No, don't pet it. You're going to get too attached. Don't pet it. _' And yet, your heart is telling you otherwise. So, you crouch down and rub its floppy ears._

 _"The next thing you know, you're considering giving it a name... maybe you'll even take it home with you. '_ Doing so will only make things worse _,' your brain reminds you. '_ But it's so tempting _,' your heart shouts back._

 _"I'm the idiot who gave it a name. And I don't regret it one bit."_

 _~Light Yagami_

* * *

.

"Hello?" Naomi Misora asked, cupping her phone closer to her ear. She yawned, glancing over at the clock. _12 am. Good grief._ Next to her, a still-asleep Raye Penber shifted against the sheets, and she took it upon herself to exit the room. The door closed with a satisfying click.

"Hello..," the caller replied in Japanese, their distorted voice drawing out each syllable. "This is Ms. Misora, correct?"

Naomi snapped to attention. It couldn't be... "Four?" she rasped, still talking in English. She huddled down into the corner of the hallway and watched the bedroom door, cursing herself for being so loud. Upset, she switched over to her native tongue. "Why are you calling me? Is it another case?"

"Ah, no," came the reply. "I was... wondering how you were doing."

"At midnight?" Naomi sighed, straightening herself out of the fetal position she'd curled into. She massaged the bridge of her nose and moved into the kitchen. Thankfully, Raye was a heavy sleeper. _Cute._

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize what timezone you were in." She yawned once more, taking into consideration the caller's words as she fiddled with the coffee machine.

"I could've sworn I told you my plans about staying in L.A. for a while. I didn't want to travel much after… well, you know," she said, wrapping her free arm around herself. "Hey, um, have you gotten… Actually, no, never mind." She shook her head violently. "What do you need to ask me? And, before you tell me otherwise, I know you wouldn't call me without a purpose. So spill the beans." She shivered and added as an afterthought, "Is L going to call me soon, too? Please tell me I won't need to destroy my cell after this."

The voice at the other end of the line hesitated for a moment. "I'm glad to hear you're doing well."

Dial tone rang Naomi's ears, and she groaned loudly before heading back down the hallway. Why was it always her that had to deal with the socially inept geniuses? Her coffee was forgotten for the time being. She cautiously twisted the doorknob open and slid into the bedroom, but she wasn't as sneaky as she thought she was.

"Naomi?" Her cheeks flushed and she turned to look straight into Raye's bright blue eyes. "Did something happen? Are you okay?"

"It's n—," Naomi began, her hands curled into fists. The lie was so easy. It was right there at the tip of her tongue. She'd spent so much of her life lying… so why did this feel so difficult? "It was… Four. On the phone."

Raye stiffened up and his mouth opened ajar. "What did he want?"

"Four could be a girl, Raye," she chided, but gave in. "I think he wanted something from me—maybe assistance on a case—but then remembered that I'm still in L.A." She sat down on the bed next to him. "It's...worrying. He usually pays such a sharp attention to details, and his memory was what had impressed me when we first spoke. Something must've happened, don't you think? It's odd for him to be so disorganized."

"I guess so," Raye said, "but it isn't your problem, Naomi. He's a brilliant detective; You've said so yourself. Maybe it's late for him wherever he is too, and this was his way of venting about a case. He'll probably be fine. Don't worry about things like that too much. It doesn't concern you."

"Right," Naomi said, letting Raye's arms embrace her.

.

* * *

 _"I suppose trust is a silly thing, don't you agree?"_

 _~Naomi Misora_

* * *

.

Light sighed and his grip on his phone tightened. His palms were sweaty. This had to be, by far, one of the weirder experiences of his life. That, and the feeling he had when his memories of the Death Note came back.

"Looks like I'm going back in time to meet her at some point," Light sighed, rubbing his temples. "Why..? She asked me if I was calling about 'another case', so chances are we've worked together in the past— er, my future and her past. Still, I don't see a point in going back any further than this date. So why?" He thought back to the name she'd called him. _'Four'. Shi. Death._ It almost seemed satiric, in a way, that he'd choose something like that to be an alias. But, more importantly, he now knew what he was going to have to call himself.

Dai laughed. "You ask me like I'm supposed to know these things. And, even if I did, I wouldn't tell you. The look on your face just then was priceless!" At this, Light scowled and pulled out his earbuds harder than he intended. He unlocked the restroom door and slipped out and over to the counter. Thankfully, it looked like no one was waiting in a line for him. In fact…

"Seems like everyone left," he said, glancing around at all the desks. He looked over at the clock. "Three more hours to go. Assuming that Susan isn't the type of person to be late." Turning on his laptop, he pulled up a search engine.

"You're going to look up the past? Smart."

"Of course. I need to know what my future self did when he went back in time." That sentence alone sounded confusing. It took every bit of Light's willpower not to mash his head against the keyboard; that would only make his headache worse. "I don't want to be left in the dark. That'd be too suspicious, and the last thing I want to do is draw that kind of attention to myself right now." He typed in 'Four' and clicked the search button. Much to his dismay, nothing but the expected popped up.

"Seems like you ask for them to keep your name out of things," Dai commented. "Oh well. Let this be a lesson for you, I suppose, Light Yagami. When time traveling, pick one date and don't ever jump back further than that. It's best to move at least somewhat linearly so you don't wind up confused as to when you did what."

Light chuckled sadly. "Apparently, I won't listen to your advice." His fingers hovered over the keyboard as he racked his brain through several different possibilities.

Did he need to get involved in the past to catch the thief who killed Misa's parents? No, that was unreasonable. There had to be enough clues left at the scene of the crime to pick up on something substantial. He would have no need to jump back for something like that. Then… what was the reason?

"Maybe you should try those police databases again," Dai suggested. Light frowned before pulling up the program he created.

"I'll try, but I don't see myself leaving something behind. If I didn't want the public to know of my existence, why would I let the general police in on it? Naomi Misora was a… is currently an FBI agent. She's probably the one I worked with, then. The FBI has the power to keep secrets like that, and I don't have the skill level to get to their records." He opened up several folders and began browsing through the files halfheartedly.

"I don't see you leaving yourself in the dark like this." This caused Light to pause. Of course.

"You're… right. I'd leave a message of some kind; something that explained it all so that there were no mix-ups. And that's exactly what I did. Getting Naomi Misora's phone number was the message," Light said, relieved. "Naomi Misora must be important. For some reason, I'm going to need her contact information in the future. Either that or the case she's involved in is equally as important. 'My participation in that event took priority over any possible confusion…' I think that's what this means.

"Anyways, I'm going to try and look up all the FBI investigations that happened within the past year. I added her to my contacts about a year ago, apparently, so that puts things at least somewhat into perspective." Light closed the records and reopened his browser.

Dai hummed. "Lemme check. I'll be much quicker than your silly little human device." Silence enveloped Light for only a brief moment as he processed that. _Check what?_ "Got it. The L.A. BB Murder Case. She was involved with that. That's when she first worked with L. They solved the case together. I'd look for more than that, but I hate spoiling the fun. Don't expect me to do something like this again, you got it?"

"The L.A. BB Murder Case?" Light repeated, bringing his chin down to rest on his hand. He hesitated before typing the query into the search bar. "Let's see how much we can find on this."

.

* * *

 _"Hello. I'm Hideki Ryuga," the man said, scratching the back of his head. He wasn't wearing a suit or anything even remotely appropriate, and he kept shifting back and forth in abused sneakers. "I'm your substitute teacher for the day." Several kids began to whisper and look around the room suspiciously. It was hard to tell if this man was telling the truth, or if he was a serial killer who was waiting for the perfect moment to strike._

 _Sayu Yagami, who was very much looking forward to taking a nap in class today, was perturbed. Why the hell would a school hire such a shady looking sub? Why couldn't it have been the real Hideki Ryuga, and not some freaky humanoid panda? And, most importantly of all, why was Mr. Panda staring at her like that?_

 _As far as teachers went, Sayu would admit to having worse. Mr. Panda was by far the most intelligent one yet, but his social skills were lacking. He talked to the children as if they were monkeys who lacked any comprehension of human speech. Of course, this backfired, and his expression upon hearing the kids' refusal to listen was hilariously priceless—a well mixed concoction of disgust and blatant agitation._

 _Other than that mishap, he seemed like an okay teacher; he knew the material and how to explain it, even if said explanation was as painful to teach to the unwilling students as pulling teeth. Although, with how much he looked at her, she was starting to think that schools needed to conduct more thorough background checks._

 _She shivered when he called for her to stay after class._

 _"You wanted to speak with me, sir?" Sayu questioned, eying Mr. Panda. Her brother had requested that she learn self-defense from the moment she hit junior high, and she's kept up with it ever since. If necessary, she decided that she could disable him enough to make a decent run for it._

 _"Yes. You're Sayu Yagami, daughter of the chief of the NPA, Soichiro Yagami. You've always been an average student, and you focus on your social life with far more passion than school. Overall, you don't appear to be enigmatic, nor do you romanticize justice. However, there is still something that I would like to tell you, if you're interested." As an afterthought, he added, "It regards the Kira case."_

 _"Shoot," Sayu declared, folding her arms. She was a little disturbed—reasonably so, considering how much this guy knew about her—but she still didn't feel like drop-kicking her sub._

 _Mr. Panda looked thoughtful for a moment. "I'm assuming that was the equivalent of a 'yes'." He paused, looking her over with care, as if he was rethinking something. Ultimately, a look of dismissal flashed across his dark eyes, but his determination didn't sway. "I want to tell you that I'm L."_

 _With that, Sayu burst into a fit of bubbly laughter._

* * *

.

The possibility that Light was going to pass out at any given moment was high. His pay wasn't substantial enough to get him into a motel (or any other sort of reputable establishment). Susan didn't have a big enough heart to let him stay at the Internet Cafe. Not even his perfected puppy eyes could sway her coffee-less morning brain. Thus, he was sent out to wander the streets of Orlando with nothing but a pat on the back and a paycheck.

He had a goal, of course. Light always made goals. He knew what he would do and what day he would do it. Planning things like this has come naturally to him since… Well, as long as he could remember.

The plan was to find an obscure location to set up his things and make contact with the Orlando police. He knew what to call himself, and (with any luck) they'd know him by name. Or, even if they didn't, telling them to check with the FBI would bring him enough attention to make his efforts worthwhile.

At the very least, they'd hear out his request to search the crime scenes in person. At most, they may be willing to send in their own men to look for him. He wouldn't have to do much more than organize and deploy them according to his whims.

Wishful thinking, Light knew. But it was his best shot at gathering enough clues to pinpoint the culprit before Misa's parents got killed.

Several children skipped past him, bags on their backs as they raced around the corner. They reminded him of Sayu. He followed them and was met with a park full of busy people swarming back and forth across the pathways. Benches lined the sides and were shaded by rich trees. He smiled to himself. _A small, secluded, yet public place. Bingo._

He curled along the central pathway and found a place to sit that was surrounded by bushes of various kinds. Pulling out his laptop, he positioned himself comfortably and hooked up his microphone. He didn't feel nervous or concerned. In fact, he was confident; giddy, even. If he could pull off pretending to be L, he could handle being himself. Or, well, a version of himself—No one would listen to him if he demanded them to release the names and faces of criminals worldwide to the media.

"What're you going to say, Light Yagami?" Dai asked. The deity had been oddly silent for quite some time; The sudden question startled him.

"You don't need me to answer that, do you?"

"I guess not. I'll just watch, then." That seemed to be all Dai wanted to say, and Light shrugged his concerns away. He could ask more things later.

A soft beep resonated from his computer and through his headphones. Light gave the area a quick scanning before he clicked open the notification. A man greeted him, a scraggly beard covering his entire lower face.

"This is Chief Porter of the Orlando Police Department. This better not be a prank. Who are you? Why have you contacted us? How did you get my email? And why is your facecam turned off?" Ah, how Light adored Americans. They loved their questions.

"This is Four," Light said through the mic. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Chief. You may or may not have heard of me, but that doesn't matter. You can confirm my identity with the FBI if need be. I've worked with them in the past."

Porter stroked his beard and his bushy eyebrows furrowed. He waved over to someone outside of the camera's field of view, presumably to issue an order of some kind. Someone shuffled several papers around, and a voice peeped up a quiet confirmation. Porter nodded as he turned his attention back to the camera.

Light couldn't stop a smirk from creeping up onto his face. "I'll assume that you are now certain of my identity." Thank god for the FBI's cooperation. It had been a good idea to send a message ahead of time, then.

"Yes, uh… We are. I've been ordered by the director to ask what you need from us. We're 'just local cops', apparently," Porter growled, shifting in his seat. "The director doesn't understand why you'd contact us and not… well, her."

"It's because you're local that I've asked to speak with you," Light said smoothly. "You've recently taken on a case regarding vacation home burglaries, is that correct?" He knew it was, but he doubted this man would listen to him much if all he did was talk the whole time. A conversation was a two-way thing, even if he wished it wasn't.

"Uh, yeah. Our men have been working on it, and…" He looked over to the side again and frowned at someone offscreen. "Why do you want to know?"

"I thought that would be obvious, Chief. I want to assist with the investigation." Porter's eyebrows raised and his eyes widened. A man rushed over to his side, and Porter whispered something into his ears before watching him run off. Sighing, Light added, "I hope that this won't end up being a problem, sir. I'd hate to be a burden." Fake sympathy was a pain.

Porter's head whipped back and forth. "No, not at all! We'd love to have you work with us!" he said, looking forward to the reputation this would bring him. "What is it you'd like to do? Head the investigation? I can—"

"Ah, no. All I want is your permission to investigate the crime scenes personally." If Light thought the old man's eyes couldn't get any larger, he was sorely mistaken. It took everything in his willpower to resist laughing.

"P-personally? Are you sure? Really? Here?"

"Yes, I'm quite sure. Of course, if you don't approve, I'd be happy to just lead a small group of officers to the locations under my orders. Although, whether or not your men are trustworthy for this kind of work is debatable—and I'd much rather do things myself—but I understand if you would prefer this." There were more hushed whispers behind the camera, which Light ignored. By the looks of things, Porter was ignoring them too.

"No—er, well, yes. Yes, you can do whatever you like! We'll work alongside you. You'll have full reign of this investigation, Four." Porter's mustache curled, and, through the locks of facial hair, his white teeth glistened. Clearly, he figured that this would be a huge stepping stone in his career.

"Good. I'll sign off, then. Thank you for hearing me out, Chief." He closed the program and stretched, laughing to himself. It was easy. Far too easy. He could see why his future self had decided to go back in time for something like this; the reputation that came from helping the FBI was incredibly useful. He must've solved that case easily (of course, his speediness then was thanks to the foreknowledge he now possessed, but, still, he felt good). The amount of power he held from that alone was almost silly, but he wasn't complaining. He couldn't help but wonder, would he be as influential as L? _No, L's solved way more cases…_ Perhaps he should do more work, and—

"I take it that you're no longer mad about the whole Future Self leaving you in the dark', correct?" Dai asked. Light only laughed harder.

.

* * *

 _"Humans are all the same. You really never do change."_

 _~"Dai"_


	5. Chapter 5: Rain

**Chapter 5**

 **Rain**

* * *

 _._

 _"Life was perfect. I had everything I could ever ask for and more. I never struggled or felt challenged. Things came naturally for me, and I learned at an incredible speed. Mom and Dad knew I was special from the moment they saw me. I didn't have to work for anything. I was so above everyone else my age, and I felt so powerful, so incredible. It was wonderful, for the first few years._

 _And then it wasn't."_

 _~Light Yagami_

* * *

.

"I think I'm going to die," Light said bluntly, rubbing his eyes till they turned red. He thumbed through his money before checking the price tags on several different jackets. The shelves of the clothes store were nearly all cleared, courtesy of the current sale. "All of these hoodies are too expensive."

"Well, your job isn't the best in the world," Dai said. _How insightful._ "Do you really want to spend all that money on some clothes? I thought you were more concerned with a place to stay, Light Yagami."

"Yes, I want to spend my money on these. I can't have anyone see my face; that'd make things confusing. Consider the amount of trouble that could cause Past-Me, especially if someone made a connection. But, I still want to investigate those two homes in person. Thus, this is necessary." He moved over towards the scarves. The options were limited, but they were considerably cheaper than a jacket. If he just found a hat or something, he could cover enough of his face to keep his identity secret. It will do for now, he supposed.

Light settled for a red scarf and a brimmed beanie. The purchase left him with almost no money left, even with the discounted price. When he left the shop, the sun was already beginning its descent along the sky. He hadn't eaten anything since that morning, when Susan gave him half of her granola bar. It seemed like he was going to go hungry again until he could get back to the Internet Cafe for some cheap pizza.

Sleep was definitely going to be an issue. Without money, he could afford no apartment or hotel room. Sixty bucks a day would not be enough to afford the things he wanted. God, how he hated this. Quite frankly, life sucked. He could barely spend time thinking about the case with how sleep-deprived he'd become. He was grungy, hungry, and tired. So very tired. 'Whodunit' was the least of his concerns.

In fact, Light was tempted to slam his head against the bus stop at this rate. Maybe he could knock himself unconscious.

"Sleep on the bus," Dai suggested, noticing Light eyeing the pole.

"That's… actually a good idea," Light said through a yawn. Lying unconscious in a foreign city with no identification wouldn't help his current situation. Plus, he couldn't afford to be brought in to a hospital. Especially not since he was expected at the most recent victim's house by Chief Porter in a few hours.

When the bus arrived, he curled his new scarf into a pillow and rested himself against the window. Light could hardly say it was comfy, but it sure beat sitting there like a zombie. Eventually, his worries drifted away, and his mind was finally able to shut down. It was the first time he'd slept in two days.

It was also the first time he'd dreamt in years.

Ever since L's death, Light had slept in silence. No more did pleasant mirages visit the surface of his closed lids. No more did he feel a surge of adrenaline when he woke up from a nightmare. He wasn't quite sure of the reason, but he knew it wasn't unwelcome. Unpleasant and unnerving, perhaps, but not unwelcome. For all he knew, things could've been worse.

He didn't really remember much from the dream itself. It consisted of nothing but overwhelming feelings and disjointed images. Fire, pain, suffering, snow. There had been no beginnings, only an ending he accepted with regret.

It was during that end, at the edge of consciousness, that he realized he was dreaming. He felt utterly suffocated. Someone was yelling something at him, but he didn't hear them. No… he wasn't listening. He didn't want to. _Not them._

When he awoke, it was with a jolting start. Rain pattered against the window of the bus, tranquil yet ominous. The few other passengers that remained had all hugged their coats closer to their chests, speaking in hushed whispers. Trees blew violently outside the window he leaned against. People bustled about, some with umbrellas and others covering their heads with purses or jackets. But, oddly enough, he felt… warm.

Using the scarf, he rubbed his eyes and let a growl escape through chapped lips. Strange dreams would do him no good. Light was never going to set sleep aside for anything else ever again. _L really must be a freak if he could handle feeling like this while focusing on a case._

"Oh, you're alive!" Dai said. "I was beginning to think you'd died."

"Of course I wouldn't die. You're the one who told me to sleep. Besides, can't you see my lifespan?" Light sighed, stuffing the scarf back into the plastic shopping bag. He leaned out from his seat and glanced up at the front of the bus as it pulled to a stop. Several people got up from their seats and hurried out.

It seemed like the bus had already completed two full circuits. The stop Light needed to get out at was the very next one, thankfully. Briefly, he wondered if he'd overslept too much. A quick check with his phone told him he would arrive at the home a little late.

He settled back down and busied himself with pulling the tag off the beanie. What he was going to do after catching the thief, he didn't know. If there was one thing he was sure of, it was that he hated not knowing. Naturally, he would have to go back in time and meet Naomi Misora so that everything connected... but what after that? Would wiping Misa from the picture really be enough to get him to live past the Yellow Box?

"I forgot to mention this, but you won't see any changes to the timeline until you go to the future to look," Dai said, interrupting Light's fidgeting.

Frowning solemnly, Light groaned. "Why didn't you tell me this before? I swear, you remind me of Ryuk sometimes; neglecting to mention the small but important bits until the most inconvenient moment." He eyed the street signs through the misted window, trying to fit the names into his mental map of the area.

"Well, I was going to wait until you figured it out yourself, but I guessed you'd be even more upset at me then. Does it really matter, though? It's not that hard to change something, jump ahead to a certain point, and then see what happens."

"Yes," Light snapped. "It changes a lot of things." An elderly woman a few rows ahead of him turned back, glancing at him. Her brows were knitted in concern, and Light cursed himself for being so loud. He just woke up; Surely having some energy would make him calmer. After waiting for the woman to turn her head back around, he resumed his scolding, speaking softer than before. "I don't have a way of knowing how different the future would be. Jumping around carelessly is going to lead to a mix-up. I don't want another mysterious contact popping up in my phone."

Dai seemed to have nothing to say to that. Whether because of anger or offense, Light didn't know, and he certainly didn't care. He slipped the brimmed beanie on and fiddled with it, trying to cover as much of his head as possible while still allowing him to see. The scarf was then wrapped around his entire lower face, leaving just shadows of his eyes to be seen.

With a creak, the bus came to a halt once more. Light slowly stood up and moved to the front, muttering a thanks to the driver before leaving.

"You look ridiculous," Dai commented, snickering. It was a childish retort to Light's chastisement, and he almost started to laugh alongside the deity. However, people were still nearby, and the last thing he needed was to come off as insane. Especially in a small, rich neighborhood like this one, where the police were looking for a break-in suspect. "Are you sure this is a good idea, anyways?" Dai continued, having calmed down a little. "L was admired by the ICPO because of both his skills and anonymity. You have the skills, I know that, but… Do you really want to put yourself out there like this? For all you know, the FBI hates you for something you did, and they've set up a trap to arrest you."

"The thought has crossed my mind," Light admitted, "but I doubt it. Chief Porter treated me rather respectfully, and he was more starstruck than anything. I don't see him turning all Machiavellian on me. Also, Naomi Misora's voice over the phone when I called her was surprised and excited, albeit tired. She wasn't aggravated or afraid.

"Long story short: neither the Chief nor the FBI harbor any hostile feelings towards me." Rain had begun to seep through his hat, and he felt his hair soak to his skin. He folded and rubbed his arms in an effort to keep warm. "Furthermore, I'm thinking long-term. The tension between the task force and L at the start of the Kira case was due to the distrust they shared for each other. If I can get personally closer to the police than L, they'll be more susceptible to manipulation.

"With that kind of trust, I could turn them against L. Maybe I'll even claim that he's the real Kira. It would speed up my plans drastically, and…" Oh. He was rambling again. How odd...

The bright lights of police sirens and the thick webs of yellow tape glistened ahead, all in front of a large home. The salty scent of seawater mixed with that of the rain and earth. Officers of varying ranks were racing back and forth along the yard. Chief Porter stood under the awning, his foot tapping impatiently. Another man Light didn't know stood next to him, his head turned out towards the ocean.

Light ducked under the cover of a nearby tree and pulled out his phone, scrolling through his files. He found the program he was looking for and slipped his earbuds in. The cords, including the one embedded with a microphone, were strung through the scarf so that it was hidden but usable. All that was left was to cover his phone in his shirt pocket and hope everything worked.

 _No_ , he didn't need hope. _It would work._ There was no doubt in his mind; after all, it was his own plan. There was no Near or Mello here to send him to prison. He'll be fine.

A few of the men who were sitting in the patrol cars were the firsts to see Light as he crossed the street. They eyed him suspiciously, ready to hop out of their seats at a moment's notice. However, their attention was sharply turned towards the porch, where a woman had started yelling at the Chief. Although Light couldn't hear what she was saying over the sound of the rain, he could tell she was angry. Porter himself was frustrated and was looking around for any sort of distraction. His gaze landed on Light, who simply waved back from his spot in front of one of the cars.

Porter immediately dodged around the woman and walked out into the rain. He cringed as the drops of water curved over his round face. The woman scowled at him for a few moments before redirecting her fury upon the man Porter had left behind.

"Sorry, sir, but civilians aren't allowed here. We're conducting a police investigation, so you'll need to go home," Porter said. It was standard protocol, but Light could tell the way he spoke that he doubted Light was a civilian. There was a sort of eagerness in his voice.

"You're the one who invited me, as per my request, Chief Porter." He started to bow his head but stopped himself. _Don't need to be giving them any clues to my nationality_ , he reminded himself, frowning. "It's a pleasure to meet you in person." He held out a hand, instead, which Porter gladly took after staring at him for a few more moments.

Thankfully, his voice distorter was working perfectly. Everything was going according to plan. There was no need for worry.

It was then that the woman trudged over to Porter and Light, scowling. "Who the hell is this?" she asked, motioning to Light. "No civilians allowed! Get off my property!" The Chief went pale and tried to catch her attention, but she shrugged him off violently. "I thought you people were done taking your photos and messing around in my house! But, no, you're all back. I won't stand for this! Why hasn't the crook been caught yet?"

"Well, you see, there's—"

"I'm terribly sorry, Miss," Light butted in, cutting Porter off. "You seem pretty shaken up by all this, which is understandable. However, all things considered, I must ask that you tolerate our intrusion a bit longer. I believe that, with my added assistance, this case will be solved in no time." Sure, he was laying it on thick at the moment. But, with any luck, his confidence would calm her down before she strangled someone.

"Who. Are. You." the woman repeated, her frown not even threatening to leave.

Light smirked despite the fact that it would go unseen. "Someone who's going to help." _But only to save himself from stress later on._

Misa will be gone from the picture after he worked this whole thing out. If that wasn't encouragement enough as is, he didn't know what would be. So many migraines will be avoided…

"I promise you I'll solve this case, and then you can go back to living your life the way you want to. No, I don't promise it; I guarantee it," Light chirped, trying to sound as cheerful as possible. His tone gave the woman pause, much to his satisfaction. She looked him over before turning to Porter for clarification.

"Ah, Ms. Mercia, this is a… private detective who is going to be handling this case. He's worked with the FBI before, and now he's with us. From what I've heard, he's more than capable of this kind of work." Porter straightened his cap, the wrinkles around his eyes deepening with his grin.

Mercia nodded a little, looking only slightly less agitated than before. "Fine. So be it. Here," she said, sweeping her arm out to gesture towards her house, "go crazy. But I swear if you people aren't gone by 11 I'll—"

"Understood." Light began to stride over along the driveway, wanting to waste no more time. "I'll be quick, then."

.

* * *

 _"You'd be a wonderful model, Misa, darling. Don't you want to accept the nice lady's offer? It'd make us so proud... Don't you want us to be proud?"_

 _~Mariko Amane, February 1st, 2003_

* * *

.

Naomi downed her sixth cup of coffee. It was only around dinner time, according to her watch, but she was ready to crawl under the covers and fall asleep. However, the stack of paperwork on her desk continued to grow, unforgiving.

Although her reputation had spiked after the LA BB murder suspect was arrested, her career didn't change all that much. Sure, her life was moving in places she'd never expected, courtesy of Raye. But, some of the other agents weren't... content with her newfound appraisal.

Thus, every once in a while, she would receive suspiciously large amounts of documents to sift through.

As if she didn't have enough on her mind as is.

Of course, Raye had told her not to worry about things that didn't concern her on a personal level. He's mentioned this fault of hers three times within the last twelve hours. Still, her determination never faltered, which was why she planned to contact Four once more after work.

If he was in trouble or going through a difficult decision, the least she could do was help out. After all, she needed to repay him somehow... no matter how many times Raye told her it was unnecessary.

Pouring her seventh cup of coffee, Naomi settled herself down and resumed her efforts.

.

* * *

 _"Tell you what, big brother!" Sayu exclaimed, turning on her heels. Billowing around her waist, her dress swiveled with her. She flashed a grin, half her teeth yet to come in._

 _"What?" Light asked, content to amuse her. It was her birthday today, anyways; If all she wanted was his attention, he would gladly oblige._

 _"Let's promise each other something. Something super secret that we'll keep for the rest of our lives, no matter what!" Intertwining her pinky finger with Light's, Sayu pulled herself closer. "I pinky-promise to make sure you always smile!"_

 _Light did his best to not giggle at her childish antics and played along. "Okay. Then, I'll pinky-promise to always be the good big brother who makes sure you're never hurt." Sayu's smile brightened at this, her eyes wide open with wonder._

 _"With a cherry on top?"_

 _"With a cherry on top."_


	6. Chapter 6: Wilting

**A/N:** Thank you for all the favorites and follows! Special shout out to the two guest reviewers and, once more, MadelyneBlue (who, btw, has some wonderful DN fics you all should check out if you like this)! :)

* * *

.

 **Chapter 6**

 **Wilting**

* * *

.

" _What do you think of this color?" Light asked, holding up a bright anime cosplay wig. His face scrunched up. Part of him wanted to throw it against the wall; the other was actually curious._

 _She had promised that he could become another person, and that was_ _precisely_ _what he needed. How picking out wigs and makeup that matched his skin tone helped, he had no idea. Girls were the ones who messed around with this kind of stuff, not him. He had no idea how to highlight a face and he doubted he could put on a wig without expelling much effort. Wouldn't making a fake passport and school records be enough? His face wasn't so unique that he'd be picked out in a crowd._

 _"Well, I guess that would depend on who's looking," he muttered, frowning._

" _I think_ _this is the silliest thing I have ever seen in my entire state of existence," Dai laughed, ignoring Light talking to himself. "You're going to wear fake hair on your head? Who would make such a thing?_ _What a strange world you live in. I remember—"_

" _You're not helping, Dai."_

* * *

.

Let it be known that Light was a good actor. His mask had been crafted over years of use, sculpted without a single blemish, never removed. The feeling of eyes on him—watching his every movement, hanging on his every word—thrilled him.

Or, rather, he enjoyed having the eyes of those of at least average intelligence on his back. These police officers weren't doing it for him.

"We've already done this; what do you think we've missed?" one whispered to another, her voice contoured with annoyance. She was short and stout, arms folded in protest at the world around her.

"Dunno," her friend said back, shrugging as dramatically as possible. "This weird hooded dude is supposed to find something, though. We'll see soon enough, I guess."

Their discussion had been going on like this for quite some time, now. Light was starting to wonder if he could get away with physical murder.

"Good things come to those who wait," Dai said. It was a reminder spoken like it was the most obvious thing out there. If Light didn't know better by now, he'd think it thoughtful.

Suppressing a sigh, Light beamed his flashlight under the sofa. The scene itself was several days old and mostly untouched. For someone who hated authorities interfering with her life, Mercia had listened to their instructions well.

Now, Light was a good actor, but he knew nothing about in-person police investigations. The few cases he'd solved before were all so easy; All he did was glance at a few files until he found someone that fit his mental profile. Did he know how to scan a crime scene? No. Did he have an idea as to what he was looking for? Not at all. Could he pull off a facade that expressed otherwise? Of course...

In hindsight, it would've been wise to research detective work. When pretending to be L, he only ever really _played_ the role of a detective—a detective chasing himself down, to be accurate. That wasn't the same as this.

Finding nothing but several popcorn kernels and enough dust to fill a teapot, Light stood back up. "Let's move on to the kitchen." He didn't bother looking back at the two idiots behind him. Whether or not they followed was irrelevant. He was here, in person, like he wanted.

"Where're we off to now, o' mysterious man?" the first officer chuckled, wiggling her fingers around.

"Okay, okay, so, I don't mean to question authority," the other said, holding his hands up, "but you do realize the break-in happened upstairs? In the victim's bedroom? Before she got in?"

Light nodded, rolling his eyes. "Yes, I know that. She arrived at the airport at five p.m. and went shopping for groceries over a two hour period. When she arrived at the house at 7:13 p.m., nothing seemed out of place. It was when she went to her bedroom thirty minutes later, unlocking the doors along the way, that she saw the flat screen television missing."

The two shared a glance before the girl spoke up once more. "So why are we going to the kitchen?"

How hard would it be to reach around and strangle her to death? He was smarter than most, maybe he could get away with—

"I want to see if there's anything that you missed, something to explain how our suspect was able to get into the house." Just because they were testing his patience didn't mean that he needed to give in to the pressure. "If memory serves me right,"—it did, of course—"then Ms. Mercia and her brother are the only two with keys. The brother is a deputy sheriff and was at the office the whole time. Several people can confirm that, so he's cleared of suspicion. Ms. Mercia, on the other hand…"

Pulling the latex gloves further, Light began to go through the contents of the fridge. Mercia had been living here, too stubborn to stay in a hotel room, promising to leave most things alone. She was forced to eat out every night but could use the guest bedroom and bathroom to her heart's content.

Yet, there were groceries only a few days old in the fridge.

"You suspect that she stole her own t.v.? Why would she do something like that?" the male officer asked, incredulous.

"She has no one to attest to her alibi. I'm keeping my options open," Light replied. _It depends on her_ _residence_ _insurance. She's rich, but how much so? She owns both her own home and this one—she married into wealth and doesn't like to rent. Every once in a while she allows friends and family to stay, but she and her husband use this place the most._ "Did she put away the groceries she bought then?"

"Think so. Put 'em away and started to go to bed."

"Who was the last person to be here, minus herself, that we know about?" Light moved over to the cabinets.

This time, the female officer took a stand, a bit more alert than earlier. "I know the good deputy sheriff, her brother, was here with some of his friends three months ago! The t.v. was still there when he left—we have photographic evidence from some pictures taken the day he packed up—but he's still suspicious. Who cares about his alibi? It doesn't matter that he showed the key still in his possession when questioned after being pulled aside... almost right after we got the call."

Her friend jabbed her in the side before doubling over in laughter. "We should arrest him!"

 _Maybe_ _I'll have to._ "That's not what I'm saying. Again, I'm only curious." He closed the cabinets and turned to face them. Hopefully, they could see his glare. "I know officers a thousand times more productive than you two. Do try and take your jobs seriously."

Mercia phoned the police at 7:38 p.m.; If her brother was here three months prior with the television still hanging, that means the theft happened at any time over... the past three months and nineteen hours. Of course, the two other break-ins were of rented homes, so the time may be more varied, possibly even narrower.

Light did a quick look-over around the rest of the kitchen. Nothing seemed broken or tampered with. Even the windows were covered in enough dust to tell him that they hadn't been opened in a while.

Feeling defeated, Light went off in search of Mercia. He had a few questions for her, as she was now his primary suspect. If the culprit couldn't enter without a key, and the windows weren't tampered with, then there are only two people who could get in: Mercia and her brother.

He found them standing in the dining room, sitting in the chairs and talking. When he entered, Mercia looked over at him, and he now noticed the darkness of the bags under her eyes. Her brother rested his hand on hers, but he too was following Light with his gaze. He was the same man who had been standing next to Chief Porter on the porch earlier. The same man Mercia had been yelling her head off at when the Chief tried to escape.

"You're the deputy sheriff I've heard so much about," Light said, nodding his head in acknowledgment.

His presence was met with a warm smile. "Yes. Deputy Ivan Villar, but you can just call me Ivan. It's nice to meet you." Standing from the chair, Ivan held out his hand. Light didn't shake it.

"Likewise." Sitting himself down, Light directed his attention to Mercia. "I have some questions for you if you're willi—"

A loud ringing erupted from something under the table. Mercia flushed and reached down, pulling up a small, blue crochet purse. She thumbed through the pockets, muttering a stream of annoyed apologies. By the time she found her phone, the ringing stopped before she could answer.

The purse was the same one Light remembered being in the possession of Clara Felts, the girl at the library who handed out a fake name.

"I'm sorry! I thought I put it on silence but I guess I didn't. Stupid phones." She folded her arms and leaned back. "Maybe if I wasn't forced to stay up so late," her glare met Light, "I would be more on top of things."

"Your purse." Light gestured to the baby blue bag. "Might I ask where you got it from?" Perhaps he was being a little too nosy, maybe even a bit paranoid, but it would've driven him crazy later had he not asked.

"Oh!" Mercia exclaimed, much cheerier than before. "It's from one of my _favorite_ little shops over along the shore! They sell the _best_ bags and shirts and shawls and—! Well, needless to say, everything there is handmade: either crocheted or knitted." She was waving her hands around and fondling the bag. "It's the only place here to get a purse like this: limited edition ocean theme!"

"What's the store's name?"

"Witty Knitty," she said longingly as if talking about a lover.

Light was now certain that women were weird.

"I only get to go there when I'm here on vacation!" Mercia exclaimed, hugging her purse.

"Which reminds me," Light began, suppressing a sigh, "what's your story? Your brother lives here, but you moved away?" He needed more clarification on this. Why would a family split apart like that? Unless one of them was a god destined to save the world who had to make sacrifices social-wise, it just seemed silly.

"No," Ivan perked up, seeing an opportunity to participate. "We were born here, but we moved to different states for college. I received a conditional employment offer to be an officer. After training, I moved back here, but Mercia stayed in California. She purchased this place a few years ago and would loan it to me or her friends, but it's been a while since we've seen each other face-to-face." He looked at his sister. "It's… kinda sad that we had to meet up again like this."

Mercia frowned. "You never told me you were moving here with a job! And clearly, you haven't been doing good work as a sheriff anyways, because my t.v. is still gone!"

"What are you talking about? I remember sending you a text!"

"You did not! I had no notice, and then you suddenly asked to borrow the house while you looked for your own place, and of course, I didn't loan it to you since I was coming here and wanted it to be clean and nice and not contaminated with your weird guy sh—"

"Please, no more yelling," Light begged. He did not want to come upon yet another headache.

"Her fault," Ivan snapped, folding his arms.

"Right, because everything is my fault!" Mercia growled.

Sibling squabbles were a foreign concept to Light. He and Sayu always got along well with each other. Sure, they might've teased the other once in a while, but they hardly ever yelled like that. It was weird to see two siblings fight like this in front of another person, in front of him... not to mention awkward and frustrating.

If they're going to keep arguing, then…

"Thank you for answering my questions." He sat up from the chair and brushed off his pants. It's a tactical retreat, the opposite of running away. He's justified in this. "I'm going to do a quick check upstairs and then call it a night. It's getting late, and I keep my promises."

 _Most of them,_ his brain decided to remind him.

.

* * *

" _Two," Light said, smirking_ _confidently_ _._

 _Sayu shook her head. "Nope, guess again! A number between one and ten. You can do it, big brother!" She was on a sugar high, face covered in the frosting of a couple different cupcakes._

" _Hmm… Four?" he asked. That was how old she was as of today;_ _perhaps_ _she chose that._

" _No," she giggled. "You're warmer this time, though!"_

 _So he was closer with four than two… "Six." His age._

" _Nuh-uh! Ten! Since you'll be turning seven in three months. Seven plus three is ten!"_

" _Why is it always about me?" he laughed._

" _Because," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck and giving him a big, frosting-covered kiss on the cheek_.

* * *

.

"Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zil." Light ripped his earbuds out and started to unwrap the scarf. Beneath him, the bus creaked and started to move along the road. "I thought this would help but I feel more lost than ever."

"You aren't lost," Dai protested. "Give it a bit." This confidence gave Light pause.

"I'm not sure why you have such high faith in me," Light said. He lay back in his seat and rubbed his eyes. Susan was probably waiting for him to arrive on time. Hopefully, the bus wasn't late...

"I've seen it all before."

 _Wait._ "What—"

"What d'you know so far? Perhaps a recap will help you fit pieces together," Dai suggested.

The bus pulled to a stop. Several people filed in; others got off. The number of passengers was decreasing as time went on as this was the second to last bus of the night. Light had seventy more minutes before midnight, which meant he was right on schedule.

Still, Light sighed. Dai never answered the important questions. "Well… I guess what's bothering me most is Clara Felts. Rose. Whoever the hell she claims to be. Her and the purses and Mercia Villar. There has to be a connection there."

"The name of the shop was Witty Knitty. Perhaps you could ask around a bit there tomorrow."

"After sleeping on the bus again, right? Lovely." Light leaned to the side to see if anyone was sitting in front of him. Seeing an opportunity, he swung his legs around and rested his feet against the back of the chair. "They both bought the bag from the same store recently as part of some promotional sale. Mercia made her purchase the same day she arrived from the airport and the same day her vacation home was broken into."

"Only the television was stolen. Why would that be chosen?"

"Judging from what else she has in the house at the moment, it probably was the most expensive thing there. Either that or whoever it was who planned the robbery hadn't expected Mercia to come back from shopping so soon. He might've had to flee real quick without grabbing everything he wanted." Light frowned. "The latter is less likely, considering that the suspect was able to create such a clean locked room trick. It'd be pretty hard to do that under pressure and with limited time.

"Furthermore… He stole a t.v. A moderately sized, heavy, flattened rectangle, along with all the cords and cables." _What would you even do with that besides sell it?_ "It's impossible to carry out something that big without multiple trips and a lot of time. That's not considering the stupid locked room he had to make."

Dai hummed. "I still don't quite get it, but… alright."

"What don't you get?" Light chuckled. He covered his mouth with his hands to try not and disturb the other passengers.

"I mean, those… boxes are really worth stealing?"

"Of course. They sell for a lot of money and they give humans entertainment. I figured that'd be obvious. What planet are you from?"

"Nevermind. I'm not up-to-date."

"Whatever… Chances are Mercia set everything up herself. Why on Earth am I overthinking this?" Light folded his arms behind his head and stretched. "She probably arranged for her brother to help her. They could split the insurance money and perhaps even mend their broken bond a bit. Plan it all, give him a false alibi, and," he snapped his fingers, "they're golden.

"As for Misa's parents being killed by a man… They could've alternated what days they did what. Swapped roles. That sort of thing. It makes sense to steal from multiple places so it looks like they didn't hold a grudge against any one person. Having them use their different techniques makes sure that no one can use a pattern against them.

"All I need is the evidence," Light finished decisively.

"I get it. Ivan Villar is a deputy sheriff, though. Doesn't that mean he has some semblance of morals?"

"I can't tell much without knowing more about his life, but... he may not be as well off financially when compared to his sister," Light said. "That gives him a motive to help her and get half of whatever they earn from insurance."

It was his stop, now. He gathered up his stuff and left, dissociating from most of the other things going on. At the very least, he was grateful for the lack of a headache. Still, tomorrow night was when Misa's parents would die. He needed to think of something quick. He couldn't arrest anyone without evidence, and he was empty-handed in that department

After walking a little bit in silence, he came upon a packed internet cafe. People loitered the front, talking excitedly amongst each other. It took a great amount of effort to weave in between them and get in through the door.

A frantic Susan was darting around from desk to desk, handing out slices of pizza and fizzy drinks. She saw Light and a look of relief rushed over her face.

"Thank God for you!" The trays were discarded at the front counter as she rushed over to him, yanking his arm. "We're packed tonight. Party reservations. For the entire local goddamn high school." She sounded exasperated, but it wasn't like she could regret accepting the offer; this amount of customers would surely bring profit.

But Light wasn't sure he was willing to suffer through a night full of impressionable imbeciles.

"I hope you're not leaving me here to deal with them, right?" he asked, smiling.

Susan winked. "I'll give ya a bonus if you make it through the night."

"How fun!" Dai teased. Light would strangle the deity if he could. Susan too, now that he thought about it. "Give the kids pizza and they'll play nice. As long as you get money, what else matters?"

 _Wait._

"I understand everything now," Light said, smiling to himself.

.

* * *

" _First name Charles, second name Mill,_

 _How many people did Manson kill?_

 _One, two, three, four, fi—"_

" _Ack! Sorry… I can never seem to make it to five! Besides, can't we try a nicer rhyme? That one's just… weird."_

" _You really haven't been watching the news, have you, Sayu? I guess we can change it…"_

 _~Sayu Yagami and friends, November 4th, 2003_


	7. Chapter 7: Incongruous

**Chapter 7**

 **Incongruous**

* * *

.

" _That dress is gorgeous. Misa, you look so pretty!"_

" _Do I?"_

" _The prettiest, sweetie."_

 _~Mariko and Misa Amane, April 25th, 2003_

* * *

.

"What d'you understand, now?" Susan asked, blinking. There was something laced beneath her voice, but Light couldn't tell if it was suspicion or outright confusion.

Dai started laughing.

"Oh, nothing," Light said. "I was talking to myself. Sorry, it's an old habit that I'm trying to break." He glanced to the side and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly for effect.

The fish didn't bite. "Still, what were you thinking about?" She looked him over, eyes dull. "You aren't on anything tonight, ri—"

"No, no, nothing like that," Light chuckled. "I'm tired, that's all." Susan's eyes didn't leave him and it was clear that he would have to continue. "I understand why… you hired me! You can't put up with doing these sorts of things yourself all the time; it's important to take breaks and rest in between. Don't worry, I'll take care of the party and all its guests. Go home and relax, okay?"

Susan's eyebrows knitted together, but the expression was gone as soon as it came. "Fine by me! Have fun, Mr. Yoru!" She shrugged as she walked out, leaving Light alone with Dai and around thirty loud students.

To begin, he hid. A quick duck behind the counter and the theft of two pizza slices set him up for around ten minutes. Thoughts became a raging river, which, although were not uncommon for him, could usually be ignored. He wished that the noise level would die down, but that was too good to be true.

"Whodunit?" Dai asked, sounding impatient. Light held up his hand in response, still chewing on the last bit of pizza.

With a final swallow, Light allowed himself a cheeky grin. "Ivan Villar has financial issues. He gets a job offer as a police investigator and asks his sister to loan him her vacation home. She denies him since she plans to stay there in a week or so herself. Of course, this makes him mad. He has one of the most powerful motives out there: revenge. Yet, he was at the station during and after the incident.

"But, although he has an alibi, that doesn't mean he couldn't have had some role in all this. In fact, I'm certain he does, considering how close he was trying to act towards his sister while I was there. He was attempting to dodge suspicion."

"So there's another culprit," Dai declared. "That would be… Maybe Susan's internet friend? Who calls herself Rose? Yeah... Someone who's too afraid to let her real name slip when she knows she's committing crimes. Hand out an alias and they won't arrest the real you… unless, of course, you're caught."

Light nodded. "Clara Felts, Rose, moved here with her boyfriend. Boyfriend being Ivan, who complained to her about his sister. I don't know whose idea it was, but Clara must have been the one who stole the t.v. and locked the room up."

"They stole from other vacation homes before—and plan to do some after—to cover up their tracks. That made it look like someone was picking victims at random," Dai said. "If I had to guess… all of the victims purchased the baby blue purses from Witty Knitty."

"Yeah. Susan said 'Rose' and her boyfriend shared a love of the fabric arts. It makes sense. I'd imagine it's pretty easy to ask where someone's from at a store. Think about how casual everyone is in a shop dedicated to old-fashioned crafts. If we need proof, though, we can ask there later for a log of customers, or something."

"I… don't think crochet is very old fashioned, but your guess is better than mine," Dai sighed. "Oh, but what about time? I mean, Ivan Villar's alibi?"

"At some point, Clara was given his key. She returned it in the time between when she left and when the police questioned him," Light said as if it was obvious.

"That's… not it," Dai giggled. "How fast can a human travel?"

"What are you talking about, now?" Light asked with a frown.

"Don't you have a navigation system on your phone? How fast can a human travel from Mercia Villar's vacation home to the police station?"

Light blinked. "Oh." _Damn._ He pulled out his phone. "I… don't think Google Maps is a thing right now. It won't work, will it?" He scrolled through and tapped open the app. Sadly, he was met with nothing but a white screen staring back at him.

"I guess not," Dai confirmed. "Think about when you contacted Naomi Misora. You could call her since cell phones of a sort existed around this time, too, although not as high-tech as yours. However, when you try to get into the Maps app, it'll only open, and that's it. Unless you decide to be the one to invent it for your own phone right now, like you did with the voice scrambler. That'd take a while, though, and is kinda impossible without permission to access one of those satellite thingies.

"Google Maps, though… When did it come into existence, again?" Dai laughed.

"2008 was when the app was released for iPhone," Light said, voice concealing a low growl. He would have to engage in human socialization with these people. Asking for directions and the usual time it took to get from A to B… He could do that without biting someone's head off, surely. He was Light Yagami, after all; calm, cool, and collected.

Taking a deep breath, he curled around the corner of the counter and stood up to come face to face with one Misa Amane.

And just like that, he felt the entire world sinking from underneath him.

It finally occurred to him that this wasn't just a high school party; it was a graduation celebration. He cursed at himself for forgetting to take into account ages while jumping. Misa was eighteen at this date, turning nineteen in December… He should've known she'd be graduating around now. _Should've expected her, should've prepared for this, should've been more careful, should've taken the proper precautions—_

 _No._ Misa didn't live here. She wouldn't go to the local high school. There was no reason for her to be here, no way he could've anticipated this. So why was she here?

Misa looked at his face for a while, eyes rimmed red and watery. "Uhm, are you handing out any more pizza?" She pointed towards the platters sitting crooked upon the countertop.

Briefly, he worried about her having seen his face so early on. There was no way she could know his real name since she'd yet to receive the Death Note, so… In fact, he didn't need to be so concerned. Knowing Misa, she'd forget him soon enough. And, if that wasn't enough, he planned to remove her from the equation. Yes, this encounter meant nothing in the long run. Besides, he hadn't even put on his nametag yet, which meant she wouldn't know his alias, either.

"Yeah," Light said dumbly. He wanted to smack himself afterwards. _Keep calm. Get info. Move on._ "Feel free to help yourself."

"Thank. God." With that, Misa took a slice and tore off half of it with one bite. She finished the whole thing in a matter of seconds and moved on to another. Light had never seen her eat like this before. Or anyone, for that matter. Sure, he'd witnessed Sayu's stress-eating before, but she got heartburn if she ate too fast. Misa was acting like a vacuum cleaner with no repercussions.

"Are you okay?" he asked, smiling. She wasn't, he knew, but he had to ask.

"No," she said, confirming his suspicions, food still in her mouth. "Misa will have to puke this up later, but I don't care right now."

Light wasn't sure how to respond to that. Misa pouting wasn't unusual. Misa so upset she was willing to stuff herself with cheese and bread until she threw up, however, was new.

Although Light had never taken much of an interest in Misa's personal life, he began to wonder if he missed something. What if the dates were messed up, or if she neglected to mention an important detail? He doubted all options, firstly because his memory was flawless and secondly because Misa basically sold him her soul. Still, this situation was off. What was going on?

"Might I ask what the problem is? You're a very pretty girl; who would do something to make you so upset?"

She glared, which was not the desired reaction. "Nothing. Family issues, if you must know. I don't see why talking to you is important. Misa will only be here until the place closes, so stop bothering me. I don't want to go home yet."

Family issues. So she's given him some amount of context to work with. Light knew that Misa adored her family. She was distraught when recounting the memory of them dying. She wanted to thank him for passing judgment on the man who'd done the killing. Yet, she was mad at them here?

"First of all, we're kinda open 24/7, so feel free to stay as long as you want." Light watched as another slice became victim to her jaw. "Do you… like your family?"

"Misa does." She plopped down against the counter and drew her knees up to her chest, chewing. A few teens glanced down at her, but their curiosity lasted only a moment. "I think they can't understand," she added, tears starting to swell. "I think they never will."

If that wasn't a contradiction, Light didn't know what was. "What don't they understand?" he pressed.

"Everything!" she cried, pulling down the platter of pizza to sit beside her. _Uh._ "They expect too much. I can't do all that. I can't. I'm nothing. I just need to go away. I just need to close off. Hide away." Misa eyed him, picking up another slice like she was worried he'd steal it from her. "You think Misa's crazy," she said, and the tears streamed down her cheeks.

"You've made her cry," Dai accused, but Light could hear the chuckling that followed.

"No," Light said, half in response to Misa and half to Dai. "I don't think you're crazy." _And she started crying after her rant without me even saying anything. That's not my fault._ "What do your parents want you to do that's put so much pres—"

"Everything!" Misa declared once more, helpful as always. "Misa's better at everything. Misa should just do it all." She was quoting her parents here, Light guessed, every word making her body curl further into itself. "So Misa isn't going home tonight. No, Misa ran and she saw this place packed with people her age. She blends in here, she fits in here, and so she's staying here until I feel like going home."

"If you love them, you should go back." Misa merely sniffled in response.

"Remember that she did, at some point," Dai chimed. "She had to see the bodies in her home, after all." This didn't do anything to improve Light's mood. "If you interfere too much and wind up not saving them…"

"I know," Light began, then realized he was still crouched next to a sobbing Misa who couldn't hear Dai. "Uh, I know how hard it is, but family deserves second chances." _Yes, this will work._ "You ran away for a reason, so give them and yourself time to cool off before you head back. Maybe… sometime tomorrow night? A full twenty-four hours will be more than enough."

A thought hit him hard, then. Whatever fight Misa had with her parents was her last memory with them, would be that way unless he succeeded.

Regret, guilt, and sorrow… How had she kept that all in for the entire time she was with Light without him picking up on it? He was a master at reading others, unless said other was a humanoid panda or freakish albino kid or— The point was that he read only one of those three emotions from her, and only on occasion. She did cry when she wanted to. Every other time, it would be passion, love, or frustration, all of which were annoying to deal with.

Misa's crying stopped and she tilted her head to the side, still resting it between her knees. "You think so?"

"I know so," Light said with a nod. If he felt sick saying those words, the emotion was immediately shoved away. He smiled. She blushed. It was as if nothing had changed.

Finally, she took in a deep albeit shaky breath and stood up. "Thank you. Misa won't eat all your pizza, now," she said, laughing. "I wanna talk to some more people!" Starting to walk away, she turned to face Light once more, smiling with rosy cheeks. "Goodnight!"

Light, too, straightened himself, lifting up the platter of pizza with him. He set it aside on the counter and looked out into the crowd. To the left, where Misa had gone, was a crowd of boys, laughing and pushing each other around. He shook his head and went right, where a small group of girls crowded around a computer screen.

It wasn't hypocritical when he did it with a purpose, now was it?

.

* * *

" _Try one," Mello insisted, sliding the white and red box across the mahogany table._

" _A cigarette?" Matt asked, looking back towards the closed door. They were alone in the library, which was a rare occurrence. Usually, others would've been around, their noses in books as they talked in hushed voices. "Are you sure we're allowed to?"_

" _Probably not." Bringing a cigarette to his chapped lips, Mello took a deep breath in… and then proceeded to cough and hack. Matt laughed, leaving Mello left trying to find an excuse for his temporary 'uncool' moment. "It… Whoever makes these death-sticks should flavor them better."_

" _Right," Matt said with raised eyebrows. "Like cotton candy, or something." He kept on giggling. Although he was only eleven and Mello was twelve, they acted like they were old-fashioned critics, trying and judging everything on the 'Do Not' list. When they found something that wasn't quite to their liking, they would figure out how to specialize it._

 _Did he fall while sliding down the stair rail? They turned a cardboard box stuffed with pillows into another, much more fun way downstairs. Were their landings from the zip line out their window into the yard too rough? Time to hit the physics books. Had Mello run out of chocolate bars? One kitchen break-in later and that was no longer a problem, courtesy of their homemade chocolate. (The extra they may or may not have sold to their fellow orphans like it was a drug.)_

 _He had no idea how Mello planned to make a cigarette taste different, but he had faith that if anyone could do it, Mello would._

 _Mello stood, shoving the pack and his lighter into Matt's hands before walking away. "You can have them, then, if you're so tough," he called from over his shoulder._

" _Fine." His response made Mello pause just before the exit. Matt took one, lit it with his friend's lighter, and inhaled. It was an odd sensation. He felt a little dizzy, perhaps even a tad naustead, for the first few seconds. But all that drifted away and he was left utterly elated, a wide smile shaping his lips. "Cool…"_

" _Hm." Mello glared, watching from the door. "Beginner's luck."_

" _So you've died from coughing multiple times, Mr. Veteran Smoker?"_

" _Shut it."_

 _They didn't take into account the smoke detector and received an in-depth lecture afterwards. This, of course, didn't stop them from getting more a day or two later, which Matt had taken a strong liking to. Yeah, he knew it could kill him, but it was better to live life the way you wanted to and die young than be stuck bored for who-knows-how-long._

 _Mello also learned to make flavored rolling papers, but insisted against trying it. ("They're for you, you idiot. I... don't want to have one in case it's poisonous. Give it a go and report any side effects.")_

* * *

.

For the past fifteen minutes, Naomi had been staring at her Nokia, her finger hovering over the number pad. She re-positioned her legs, folding her left over her right. Due to recent weather changes, her jackets have become useless. Even though the sun had set, she was sweating bullets on the public bench, her hair sticking to her pale face.

 _Do it._ She really should. A quick call, to check in on things, couldn't hurt. Yes, she would be direct, leaving no stones unturned, her words brief and profound and—

Naomi sighed. _Get it over with._ She searched back through her logs and, upon finding the number she was looking for, pushed the call button. Nerves were forgotten as the phone rang once… twice…

She received no answer.

A few thoughts raced through her mind. Had Four gotten rid of the phone he used then? Or, perhaps, he was blocking her cell from calling his? Maybe he had a program that— _Silly. Focus. Try again._

Once… twice… Still nothing.

Naomi worried, but this time it didn't last for long. _Time zones_ , her mind exclaimed, relieved. Four was on a different time zone, judging by when he last called. Perhaps he was actually getting some sleep, wherever he was right now. This was a good thing. Probably.

She stood up, slipped her Nokia back into her purse, and pulled the bag up over her shoulder. It was then that her phone buzzed. Frantic, she sat back down and dug around for the device, accepting the call and holding it up to her ear.

"Hello?"

"You tried to call me?"

Naomi blinked. Four. He wasn't using a voice scrambler? She must've caught him at a bad time. "I'm sorry," she apologized, biting her lip. It took every ounce of willpower she had to avoid over-analyzing his real voice; that would be rude, right?

But… _He really is a 'he'. Sounds young, but not—_ She shook her head, mentally cursing.

"It's only midnight," Four said, excusing her apology as if it was nothing.

"Midnight?" _He's on the east coast._ Once more, Naomi frowned. "Sorry," she said again, but immediately continued. "I wanted to ask how your case is going."

Four was silent for a while, and Naomi wondered if she'd been too brazen. "It's been going well, actually." _Okay, good._ "I know who the culprit is; all that's left now is the arrest. Why do you ask?"

There was a message contouring those words. _How did you know?_ She couldn't quite say, herself. It was her intuition, she guessed. That, and it just… made sense.

"You seemed off the last time we talked," Naomi said, opting to tell the truth. "Not as focused. I guess I was worried." She quickly added, "What case? I could help a bit."

"Don't worry about it," came the undesired response. "It's all under control." He hung up after that, distracted by something he deemed more important for the time being.

That was okay.

She could rest easy knowing that she did her best to offer assistance. She could ignore how rushed he'd sounded. She could ignore the curiousity bubbling up from inside her.

It was okay.

.

* * *

" _Hey," Clara said, breathing softly into the phone. She wrapped her hands around her cup of coffee, a bright smile glistening against the moonlight. A gust of air blew through her open window, but she wasn't cold. Her favorite was wrapped around her shoulders, after all._

" _Hey."_

" _About what we talked about earlier? It would mean a lot if you came through." She hoped she wasn't coming off as too needy. They were desperate, sure, but she didn't want that to be common knowledge. It was a weakness, and those were meant to be hidden._

" _I… don't know. You sure it'll work?"_

" _Fairly sure," Clara laughed. "Have I ever messed up before?"_

"… _No."_

" _So, then, are we good to go?" she asked, taking a sip from her warm drink._

" _Good to go."_

 _She should've known that there was a first time for everything._


	8. Chapter 8: Blighted

**Chapter 8**

Blighted

* * *

.

" _I don't think I can afford you anymore, Clara."_

" _Afford me? What on Earth are you talking about, Ivan? You don't need to afford me. I love you, and love is enough payment."_

" _It isn't. It isn't and you know it isn't."_

" _You cannot buy happiness with money."_

" _But how can you be happy without it?"_

* * *

.

Light was screwed. He was royally, undeniably screwed.

For one thing, the time it took to get from the vacation home to the nearest police station was over twenty minutes. And that's if you have a car. Assuming that the break-in happened just before Mercia arrived, that puts it far too late for Clara to have gotten the keys back to Ivan. There were a few possibilities.

One, that the t.v. was taken anywhere between when Ivan left and Mercia came. This was a huge gap, though he would've considered it had there not been other thefts before.

The order of break-ins wasn't something that could be changed. Victims almost always had a maid or neighbor notice something while they were away. That usually happened a day or two after… if the police reports were anything to go by. Which was why it was possible to organize things by weeks; #1 happened three weeks ago, #2 the next, and so forth.

So it was safe to assume that Mercia's place was robbed sometime during the week after #3, and thus option one was improbable.

Two was that Ivan was innocent, Clara had nothing to do with it, and Light's dealing with a different person altogether. Someone who was both skilled with a lock-pick and indiscriminate with their victims. He denied this, for he hardly ever was wrong. If that was what really happened, that meant he'd been way off with his deductions, and that was… stupid. He'd blame Dai if this was the case. For what, he didn't know, but he would.

Three left him more frustrated than the other options combined: He didn't have enough clues yet. Or, to be more precise, he was in L's position. Without enough evidence, without the full picture of the puzzle, the suspect cannot be convicted. And that meant that he could do nothing to save Misa's parents, and this entire thing will have been a goddamn waste.

And, sadly, this was probably the case.

To make matters worse, Light had been stuck sitting there at 'work'. He had to wait for all the kids to leave only to have to spend an extra two hours cleaning up pizzas stuck to the walls and soda spilled across the floor. Susan showed up about an hour late and didn't help him because she had "other things to attend to" (eating her breakfast and watching Light fight with his mop over the counter).

He was free by 10 and starving. Even though he was reeling to go, Dai recommended he eat, as a fueled brain would be better to have sitting in his skull. After a stop for coffee and some pastries, it was 10:23. The wait for a bus was another ten minutes or so, and the drive itself nearly thirty.

So, at 11, he arrived in front of Witty Knitty's doors, its pastel pinkness a pleasant contrast to the blue of the ocean behind it. He walked in expecting to be given the customer log and showered with a compliment or two, no questions asked. He left pissed that the old lady at the register wouldn't hand anything over to a "shady hooligan".

It took a decent amount of time and effort to get Chief Porter to call the store and request that the records be handed over to him. And even still, Light was glared at by not only the lady but a few of the women who were engaged in a workshop.

The logs themselves were not quite what Light had hoped for. They didn't detail what purchase was made or what time checkout was; instead, he now had a list of scribbled names for every day the store was open. Obviously, they'd been written down in order, but… still.

What irked him more was the fact that Clara Felts' name was not once present. Neither was Ivan's. All he had was Mercia Villar, who came on the day she arrived in Florida. It made sense; she had been out shopping then and probably picked up the bag while there.

So when? When had she acquired that crochet purse? How did she travel so quickly from the vacation home to the station? What piece of evidence was he missing that had put him in this godawful position?

Three. Three in the afternoon. That was when he finally got off the bench outside of Witty Knitty, returned the logs he'd been staring at for hours, and made up his mind.

"I'll just have to take matters into my own hands." Light was no pro athlete, and he doubted he could take someone out in physical hand-to-hand combat. But it was starting to seem like his only option at this point was to confront whoever the murderer was and take them down. What could he do?

"What, you're really going to try and fight a soon-to-be murder?" Dai asked.

"No," Light replied simply. Of course, he wouldn't. That was too violent for him. He could think all day long about killing people with his bare hands, but it wasn't like he could actually do it the way he envisioned without some unpredictable setback. That's why the Death Note was so great; it gave him the freedom to strategically remove filth from the world from the safety of his bedroom. It allowed his battles to be fought mentally, not physically. "Clara Felts is a woman, and I'm pretty good at getting women to do what I want."

"But the one who murders Misa Amane's parents is a man. Ivan Villar does that, I'd guess."

 _Oh._ That was right. It was a man who Light saw in the glimpse provided by the timeline. Shaking off his thoughts, he shrugged. "Woman, man, I can probably handle either."

"I… could tell you to not be so cocky, but you wouldn't listen, now would you?"

.

* * *

" _You like to knit?" Clara asked, laughing. "I've never met a man before who could knit._

" _Well I do," Ivan huffed, "and I'm now your classmate, so you'll have to put up with me. The Knitting Man."_

 _Clara hummed, thinking it over. "The Knitting Man… that sounds like it would be an excellent superhero's name," she said, smiling._

* * *

.

Mariko Amane was a simple woman. She had a simple education, a simple husband, and a simple life. This was how she'd gone about her days, thinking about only the simplest of things, wishing the world would do the same.

Her daughter, however, was not simple. This she knew from the moment she laid eyes on that small smile. Yes, her daughter was destined for far greater things than she. So she'd changed her simple life into one that accompanied her daughter.

Misa would be a model. This was decided the moment Markio saw her play dress up for the first time. She was beautiful, perfect in every way imaginable and able to look good in every outfit she tried on. Mariko's daughter was the prettiest rockstar-banana-cat there was, and more people needed to see her.

Misa would be independent. Mariko knew this after Misa's first day of preschool. That was when she came home crying because her 'boyfriend' said he didn't want to spend time with her. The 'boyfriend' asked her out after the first thirty minutes of class only to change his mind in favor of playing building blocks with the other boys. So, Mariko had told her that day to not care about others. She told her to not think and worry about their opinions, and to do what she wanted when she wanted it.

This, she'd said, was freedom.

Misa would be focused. Richard, Mariko's husband, was the one to recommend this. He was worried that his daughter had ADHD. This was unacceptable; his daughter couldn't be that way, and Mariko agreed. Perfection, that was what Misa needed to maintain. So Mariko promised to fix it. She told Misa to stay on target, to not procrastinate. To pick one thing and run with it. To stay still and quiet and graceful.

It hadn't worked much in the earlier years, but, with time, Misa had started to shape up into the lovely young lady her mother wanted her to be.

Now, she was old enough to have started her modeling career. Everything was going just like Mariko had dreamed. Her daughter was now having professionals take photos of her in the finest fashion available. Mariko herself was starting to realize that she liked the nature of it all. She doubted that she could've handled such a crazy life, but she adored seeing Misa doing it.

She thought Misa liked it, too, until they got into a fight.

"She'll be back soon, Mari," Richard said, resting a hand on her shoulder. "Just give her some time. Kids fight with their parents all the time. It's not unusual." Maybe in America that was true, but Mariko was Japanese and that made a world of a difference. She'd never once gotten into such big of an argument with her own mother. Sure, they'd been mad at each other before, but they never yelled or cried.

"If she isn't back by nightfall, I'm going out to look for her," Mariko told her husband, staring sadly through the window. Richard sighed and began to leave when she called out to him. "Richard? Do you think… Misa isn't our perfect baby girl?"

He immediately dismissed the idea. "Nonsense, dear. We've raised her this way for a while. It's a little surprising that only now she broke from underneath the pressure. But it doesn't matter since it'll all be over soon. She'll be back to perfection soon. So c'mon and watch this movie with me already, okay?"

It wasn't Misa's first breakdown. Mariko knew that. She'd seen it happen a few other times. Rare it may be. Infrequent, yes. But there was only so long a person could bottle up their feelings before they snapped.

Where had she gone wrong? Was it bad to have wanted so much? To have such high hopes? No, she couldn't have been so off. She was a mother, for God's sake, and mothers knew best. Perhaps Richard was right. Perhaps Misa was taking a rebellious turn.

Mariko pulled out her pocket knife. It was a small thing which she kept in her bra, a weapon she'd use for defense if she had to. She just wished that she'd given it to Misa instead, that it was with her baby girl right now, wherever she may be.

With a sigh, she shook her head. In any case, this fold would have to be ironed out. Mariko wasn't sure she could handle much more of it.

.

* * *

 _Clara browsed through the shelves of yarn, humming thoughtfully to herself at every different color. She held her phone in one hand, waiting as it rang. The moment it picked up, she hurried at her chance. "Hi, are you Mercia? I'm Ivan's girlfriend, Clara. It's nice to meet you. Well, talk to you."_

" _Clara? Yeah, he mentioned you. What do you want?"_

 _What did she want? There were a few things. Her boyfriend's spirits to be back up was one thing. Money? Another. Perhaps a bit of charity on Mercia's part? That was what she needed today._

" _Uh, well, I'm sure Ivan told you that we've recently come to Florida for his job. We're renting out an apartment here, but we can't afford it for very long, at least not until he starts getting his paychecks, and—"_

" _Cut to the point."_

" _Oh, well, I wanted to ask you if you could change your mind. We would really appreciate it if you let us borrow your vacation home for a while." She curled her hands into a fist._

" _No. I told my brother that I was going to be staying there for a few weeks on vacation soon. I don't want you two there while I'm trying to relax and spend time alone."_

 _Clara sighed and moved over to the other aisle. "Are you sure? We could use one of the guest bedrooms."_

" _I'm sure."_

 _A man at the counter sat a baby blue purse in front of the cashier. He was rich, Clara could tell, with his fancy suit and expensive-looking watch. "My wife said she loved the look of this when we saw it from the window, so I must buy it for her," he said. "We won't be in Florida much longer since the weather's been getting more unpleasant…"_

 _Mercia on the other end of the phone grew impatient. "If that's all you wanted to ask me, then I—"_

" _Mercia, do you have friends who are here in Florida right now?" Clara asked, then bit her lip._

" _Yeah, they tell me what they're up to nearly 24/7. Why?"_

" _I think I have a plan," she whispered. "A plan to help Ivan's financial worries and a plan to help you restore your bond with him. Are you game?"_

 _Mercia took a second. "What is it?"_

* * *

.

"You've resorted to stalking."

"No, I haven't." Light crouched against the dirt, peering over the hedges that lined in front of the Amane's vacation home. His head was wrapped with his scarf and his beanie shadowed his eyes. He really did look like a stalker, but the term didn't fit his purpose. "This isn't stalking, it's protecting." He was going to make sure they lived. Misa was a huge roadblock for him, with her stubbornness and arrogance. Keep her parents alive and everything will work out.

"Since when did you become a knight in shining armour?" Dai asked.

Ha. "I've always been one for heroics. I've been trying to make this world a better place, remember?" There was a lot on his mind. For one thing, Naomi Misora. The phone conversation he had with her had come at one of the worst possible times. He couldn't very well talk to her with a voice scrambler while sitting on a bus near children without drawing attention to himself. In any case, he needed to focus, not try to defend himself to an annoying, bodiless voice.

"So would you claim to be a martyr? Or does that term not fit, since technically you didn't die?"

"I'm not very religious." It was true, at least, mostly. Soichiro was an idealist, and that rubbed off a bit on him. Although he might never have agreed with what Light was doing, they were both visionaries, in a sense.

"Yet you want to be a god." It was the way Dai said this that set Light on edge.

"What is a god? I admit I used to be an atheist. 'Gott ist tot,' or, 'God is dead.' It was Friedrich Nietzsche who said that over a century ago, but I learned of his words when I was ten. Dad got me a philosophy book for my birthday, just like I asked him, and I spent an entire night reading it.

"In short, it means that humans have killed the idea of God. We advanced to the point where religion is unnecessary. Science and technology have brought us beyond the notion of a god.

"That quote gave me a headache, but once I figured it out, it became the only thing I really believed in. That is until I found the Death Note." Light lowered his head and started to sneak around to the side of the house. The layout was well organized, but, although he could predict where each room would be, it was nice to have a clear mental map before all hell broke loose. "When I first met Ryuk I started to rethink some things."

Dai hummed. "What do you believe in now?"

"I like the ontological approach. St. Anselm claimed 'that than which nothing greater can be conceived' must exist. In most religions, God is conceived as being utterly perfect. But, He can't be perfect if He exists only in our minds. He wouldn't be as perfect as a being that actually existed."

"You think that by being perfect, you'll be a god?"

"If I save this world from evil, people will worship me like a god anyways. And I'm already perfect; perfect grades, perfect looks, you name it. Kira will be the final nail in the coffin."

With that, Dai started to laugh. "Wow! Seriously? Listen, Light Yagami, and listen well. I'm a deity myself and I know more than anyone else that I'm not perfect. And have you even seen Ryuk? You think he's perfect?"

Light gritted his teeth. "Ryuk? No. He's a shinigami. _A_ shinigami, not _the_ shinigami. The Shinigami King would be the perfect one, the one who grants power to all the others. The master and the slaves. I'd guess that the same works for whatever's in charge of life. Or, are there gods of more things? The god of fruit? The god of dirt? They could all just be subordinates of God Himself. Something along those lines, anyways."

"There are two sides to the coin, and two sides only. Neither is what you hope it to be, but don't let me ruin your parade. I think believing things like this is good for you humans."

 _Whatever._ "What time does it happen?" Light asked.

"Oh, in four or five minutes they'll die without intervention."

To think that was his deadline… He was basically going up against a panicked man with a gun bent on fixing his financial situation. Barehanded. With nothing but advanced smarts. And if he failed? Misa had seen him. Who knows how that'll change the future if he doesn't get her out of the picture.

No cars had pulled up along the road for quite some time now. The Amanes were inside watching some action movie in the living room. Living room connected to a hallway, which led into the kitchen, which led to the back door. That hallway was the same one Light had seen in the snippet of time provided by the timeline.

Which meant that the backdoor is the one that needs watching. Light climbed over the fence and plopped himself into the backyard, which was complete with a fire-pit and a large pool. The backdoor was right near a grill. And it was wide open, cold air curling out into the night.

One word raced through Light's head. _Shit._ It was one of his less graceful moments.

He raced through the door and curled around to hide inbetween the counter of the kitchen and the wall, right next to a trash can. A peer around the corner revealed a man turning into the hallway. Light recognized the hairstyle. Ivan Villar.

 _Shit._

Should he pick up a weapon? A kitchen knife? A frying pan? A couple of dishes to chuck from a distance? Or was he strong enough? A tennis match was one thing. Endurance he had. But a fist fight? Was he that confident?

The first thing he saw was a cutting board. He decided to use that as a shield if necessary. The next thing he grabbed was a frying pan. That would be no different to use than a tennis racquet. He could swing it around well enough.

A scream. A gunshot. They ricocheted through the house, followed by yelling and cussing.

 _Shit._

"You better hurry," Dai warned. As if that wasn't obvious.

Light pulled himself back up and slowly crept towards the entrance to the hallway. He peeked around the corner.

Mrs. Amane was sitting on the floor, blood staining her shirt. It looked like she'd gotten up to get something from the kitchen when she saw Ivan. In her hands was a pocket knife, small but covered red. Mr. Amane was right behind her, panicked to the core, afraid to move.

Ivan himself was standing in the middle of it all with trembling fingers curled around a gun. Mrs. Amane had slashed at him a bit, but it didn't seem to have much of an impact on him. Adrenaline rush, most likely.

Light reeled out into the hall. "Wait!" he yelled, wielding his board and pan. The time it took for Ivan to turn to face him felt like forever, every second making him wish that he'd stayed in the kitchen.

"Who the hell are you?" Ivan asked, shivering. His brows raised after a beat. "That detective?"

"I..," Light began, unsure of what to say. He wanted to run to the Amanes' side, or, at the very least, find something to stop the bleeding He needed something clever to say. Something…. Something…

And then a hand pressed against his shoulder. There, standing behind him with wide eyes, was Clara Felts. There were tears streaming down her cheeks. He wanted to ask her why she was there, that she wasn't supposed to be and that he was going to handle things, but decided not to.

She shoved something into his hands before stepping out in front of him.

A crumpled up Post-It. That was what she'd given him. 'Call the police,' it read. 'Get that woman medical attention.'

"What?" Light whispered to himself. The police? He'd told them to be on standby for a call. He planned to have them come in once he was ready to make the arrest. But right now? He looked back up from the note.

"Clara! Good God, what are you… why are you here? I said I was going to, that I'd…" Ivan was struggling with his words, but his gun was still firmly aimed at Mr. Amane, who had wrapped his arms protectively around his bleeding wife.

"Ivan, calm down, just give me the gun," Clara said, holding her hands up and trying her best to smile.

Ivan shook his head. "No. No. I can do this. We'll be set for life with all their stuff, Clara. So don't worry. I have gloves on, there are no fingerprints. No one will know. I just have to..," he trailed off and started to slowly press down against the trigger.

"It's okay. You don't need to, remember? We'll get enough from Mercia's insurance to last us a month or two. By then you'll have your paycheck and we won't ever have to—"

"It's not enough! It won't be enough! I have to support you! That's my job. It's my job and I have to do it."

Light shook his head, slinked back into the kitchen, and pulled out his phone to make the call. He slid in his earbuds and frowned. _Disgusting. Selfish. Inhumane._ This was why the world needed Kira. So people like Ivan got what they deserved. So innocent people didn't have to suffer.

Mrs. Amane fainted, blood pooling around her motionless body. Her knife dropped to the floor with a small clink, insignificant but somehow so meaningful. Her husband was shouting now, shaking her head, trying in vain to wake her.

"Ivan you don't need to. Our plan would've worked, we didn't need more… I don't understand. Why?" Clara started to cry again, biting her lip. "Why?"

Five. She took a few shaky steps forward. Mr. Amane picked up his wife's pocket knife. Ivan lowered the gun.

Four. Ivan's shoulders began to relax. It looked like he was going to listen to her, maybe even give her the gun. This was progress.

Three. Light hung up his phone. Fifteen minutes before help arrived. Mr. Amane stood, hunched over with a desperate air around him.

Two. Ivan dodged to the side, slamming against the wall and knocking down a few paintings in the process. Clara screamed.

Red. It spilled across Clara's white shirt like a flower, its petals seeping into the fabric. She pulled back and Mr. Amane let go of the knife, realization hitting him suddenly. Ivan cried, aimed, and fired.

 _Shit._

 _._

* * *

 _Clara slung her purse onto the bed, plopping down next to it with a sigh._

" _Did you find what you were looking for?" Ivan asked her. He smiled as he pulled her into an embrace._

" _Yup," she told him, nodding. "A cheap dinner recipe for us to eat every night now for the rest of our days." She laughed and elbowed him playfully, but his expression went grim._

" _I'm going to do something about it."_

" _What? Nah. We are doing something, right? Mercia gave her word. We'll have the insurance money, and then we can return everything. No one will be hurt, we'll have enough to be comfy, and life will be good." Clara nuzzled into him and he hugged her tighter._

" _If we don't keep stealing, someone will figure us out. They'll figure out why the thefts ended when they did. I can't let that happen. We can't just stop. Not now, not yet."_

" _Ivan—"_

" _Don't think about it." He kissed her forehead. "I'll handle it. Just... show me how to pick a lock. Like you do. Quiet and fast."_


	9. Chapter 9: Inkling

**A/N:** I would like to thank everyone who has favorited, and/or followed! Special shout-out to TheLizard-ling and elcasa for their reveiws! As for the rest of you, don't be too shy on me now~ I love hearing all sorts of opinions, so do share!

* * *

.

 **Chapter 9**

 **Inkling**

* * *

 _._

 _Her kimono was torn and her eyes teary, every step she took emphasizing the weight upon her shoulders. The black notebook burned against her arms, humming with intensity. No way, no_ how, _it just simply couldn't be. She kept telling herself lies, lies over and over and over again._

 _"Hey, girl, what's a matter?" a man asked. He was a drunkard, leaned against the wall of the alleyway with a cheap bottle in one hand. What a fool he was, like many others, still under the impression that excess drinking was heroic. Just because trading with America was giving commoners cheap alcohol didn't mean it was healthy to be so intoxicated. Still, he looked concerned for her, worried for her._

 _She did not deserve his sympathy._

 _"I've murdered someone," she told him. "I murdered someone and I liked it but it was wrong, so very very wrong. Tsukihi will punish me. They'll punish me and everyone I know even though it's all Their fault, but I… I will not regret it."_

 _With that, she stumbled on, leaving the bum behind as he stared down his half-empty bottle_.

* * *

.

One of the many things in life that Light never quite understood was punching bags. It seemed like an awfully violent way of exercising. Besides, if one wanted to hit something with their fist, they could become a wrestler. At the very least they would accomplish something more than punching a hung sandbag.

Now, however, he realised that it was a form of meditation. A way to vent anger without beating someone else to death. And, perhaps, it would be what he needed. Sadly, though, Chief Porter was not about to let him slink off into the shadows in search of a gym.

"I told you what happened. I suspected the Amanes would be the next target. But I lacked proper evidence, and thus I was forced to come here to watch the place myself. When I heard screams from inside, I jumped to the occasion. I found Ivan Villar in the hallway, surrounded by bodies. Do you really need me to say what that means?"

"What of the girl, Clara Felts? She has a knife wound," Porter sighed, scribbling things down in his notepad. He wanted to go home too, a justified desire.

"Look," Light groaned, resting his head on his hand as he leaned further into the table. "Mrs. Amane was shot first. She bled out in her husband's arms. He picked up her pocket knife. When Clara was talking to Ivan, asking for the gun, Mr. Amane charged and stabbed her in the stomach. Ivan then shot him through his back."

"And then you chucked a cutting board at Ivan's head—"

"Effectively knocking him unconscious, yes." Soon after, a horde of police cars, fire trucks, and ambulances arrived at the scene. Explaining this all was taking much longer than Light wanted. He was definitely going to be late to work. Not that he minded that, especially after last night. A repeat of that and he'd rip out his hair.

Porter blinked. "Like a frisbee?" Was he still on about that? Could he not understand Light's eagerness to mull over the events of this evening in peace and quiet?

"Yes, like a frisbee. Except much more deadly. A regular frisbee wouldn't knock out a grown man armed with a gun, now would it?" Sarcasm dripped from his words. Light hoped this finally delivered his message through Porter's thick skull. If not, he'd force his way out of this iron-scented house.

With a huff, the Chief closed his notebook and nodded. "Alright. You can go. But can you give me some way of contacting you, just in case we have more questions?"

Light shook his head. "Sorry, I can't do that. Feel free to tell the FBI if you need me, though. Word circulates around there with great speed. Someone who does have my number will be able to pass on your message." I.e., Naomi, should she feel up to the task. Even if she didn't, she would probably feel required to, anyways.

"Alright. I'll settle for that, then. Have a good night." With that, Porter left, off to argue with some of his officers over their management of the situation. Light took his own leave, slipping through the front door without turning a single head.

The air was cold, tickling his skin with an unforgiving singe. He wished nothing more than to be alone. Alone, with his thoughts, in a world of his own. Paradise, that was what he wanted. It was something he thought he could create. Yet, he couldn't even save two lives on his own. Without the Death Note, could he do anything?

Misa… what of her? What would she think of this whole situation? How much had he fucked up?

Ivan Villar was arrested. There was solid evidence of his crimes this time around so the police won't be letting him go any time soon. But Misa's parents were still dead. So was Clara, although he didn't suppose that'd change much. Still…

"What happened the first time around?" Light murmured, watching his breath condense and dispel. The scarf held back most, but not all, and he tried to use the curling water vapor as a way to calm down.

"You really want to know what happened?" came Dai's response. Curious but tuning in its own weird way. "Why? It's a point in time that no longer exists, thanks to you."

"I don't want to know," Light growled, "I need to. Can't you look it up? You did something similar when I asked about the L.A. BB murder case." He had to understand what went wrong. He couldn't handle it. It couldn't have been his fault. But there was no other way to explain it.

Dai hummed. "If you must…" It took a moment for the follow-up reply. "You delayed him. Without your interference, Ivan Villar would kill Richard Amane before Clara Felts arrived. She then assists him with erasing all the evidence, and they make off with several of the Amane's belongings in the process."

"So why did she want me to call the police on him, then? Why not stab me with a kitchen knife and go from there?"

"Because she never wanted anyone to die." Dai's voice was goading in a way, provoking Light all the while seeking for a specific response. "Maria Villar was in on the plan the entire time. The three of them would return all the stuff they stole after she received her insurance money. No one would die and they'd be a little richer.

"But Ivan Villar didn't believe it enough. He wanted more. So Clara Felts had to hurry after him when she realized what he was going to do. Either she would stop him before he murdered anyone, or she would help him hide his tracks. She loved him but never wanted anyone to get hurt for their own greed so long as it was avoidable.

"So tell me, Light Yagami… Does that mean she was a bad person? Did she deserve what happened to her? She did commit a crime; theft isn't exactly excusable. But to die? Does her absence make this world a better place? Or—"

"Shut. Up. I'm not in the mood." Light felt nauseous, disoriented by his surroundings. If he wasn't on the sidewalk, he'd be roadkill with how slowly he was ambling to the bus stop. "If you're trying to convince me that Kira did no good, then you are mistaken. The violent crime rate dropped while Kira was active."

"So you made criminals smarter." What? "Have you never thought of this before? What of the authorities tasked with investigations? Before Kira, criminals weren't nearly as scared of messing up. Their punishment was less severe by leaps and bounds. In some cases, it was well worth the risk. Throw in the death factor and criminals start to think harder. They find loopholes. They put more work into their plans. Because a few years in jail is better than dying outright.

"What of suicides? Car accidents? Murders made to appear, for all intents and purposes, like accidents or unfortunate turns of fate. To the average police officer, there is no way of telling the difference."

There was truth in this. So much truth that Light denied it all, shook his head, and focused firmly on the path in front of him.

"How many Clara Felts did you kill as Kira, I wonder?" Dai continued, laughing as if this were all some joke. Like the universe decided to play a sick prank. "Hmm, it's something to think about!"

Light wouldn't think about it. He couldn't. Not right now. Not ever.

He had to run a little to catch the bus, making it in just before the doors closed behind him. This time, however, he noticed the faces more. The people who sat stone-faced in their rows of seats, every one of them with minds of their owns. They all had problems, things they had to tend to, risks that had to be taken.

But the people who stood out to him most were the couple. The way the snuggled into each other's arms, their eyes bright despite the darkness of the sky. Was it possible to love that much? To love the way Clara love Ivan? To risk it all for the sake of one person? Misa had, she had done it for him. But he?

"Are you going to work?" Light was beyond grateful for Dai's change of conversation topics.

"Yes. I have to tell Susan that I won't be coming to work anymore," he muttered. "It's the gentlemanly thing to do, after all." In reality, he wanted to erase all ties with Florida permanently. The state must hate him.

"Where will you go to, next?" Dai asked.

Light glanced out the window, letting his eyes trail loosely across the scenery. "I'll worry about that bridge when I get to it."

.

* * *

" _Music is the gateway drug to happiness."_

 _~Kurou Otoharada_

* * *

.

"You're leaving?" Susan blurted out, blinking in disbelief. "Is this because of the teen party incident? You're pretty childish if you're still worked up about that nonsense."

"I don't know. Maybe I'll come back, maybe I won't. But there are things I have to do, Susan. Please understand." Light flashed her his best smile, but something there was missing. Even she picked up on it.

"Aw, man… I hate being right," she sighed, plopping herself down in the chair. "I'll handle the paperwork for you, so don't worry about a thing, m'kay?" She started to write out a check, which caught Light off-guard.

"Sorry, but what do you mean by being right? And why are you writing me a check? I'm not working tonight," he affirmed. It had been his hope to make sure he was clear the first time around, but some people needed extra… help when it came to drawing conclusions.

"I know you're not workin'," Susan scoffed, rolling her eyes. She leaned over the counter and handed him the slip, smiling. "But you needed money, yes?"

"Well, yes, I won't deny it." With a swift move of his hand, he moved her hand away, looking her in the eyes. "But I prefer cash over checks anyways. Besides, you didn't answer my first question." Due to the customers in the room, he couldn't raise his voice all that much. Still, he hoped this got through to her.

Susan tore up the check, stuffed it in her bag, and began digging around for some money. "When you work in a place like this for as long as I have, Mr. Yoru, you tend to notice something about people before they even open their mouths. The way they look at things, the smiles on their faces, their eyes… It all has a meaning.

"You're one of the more... unique people I've met." She slid him a crumpled up wad of money. "Usually, with those who look like you, there are a few possibilities. One, they're the epitome of perfection. Sweet, kind, carin', honest, lovable, you name it! The kind of guy every girl wants to get with. But they're really pretty shallow. Somewhat selfish. A bit of a gerrymander. Still nice to spend the night with, though," she laughed. "A little ego didn't hurt nobody.

"Two, they've been in love with someone like that, but, somewhere along the line, they fucked up. Depending on the fuck up, there's no way to come back from it. So they're like hollow souls, manipulatin' every girl they meet just to fill their empty void.

"Three, they are currently in love but haven't got the guts to say nothing. Either they have a long ass stick up their butt or they're dumb as hell." She grinned brightly, folding her arms across her chest in a manner unlike any woman Light had ever met. He'd certainly never find someone like her in Japan, that's for sure.

Taking the cash, he shoved it into his pocket, not even bothering to count how much it was. That didn't really matter right now, anyways. "So, which one am I?" One was the obviously correct answer, but he wanted to hear her say it. She'd be part of the few people who knew what he was like under the mask. That was a pretty mighty accomplishment for someone as absent-minded as her.

"Three, you dimwit. Try not to make anyone suffer from your smile, a'right?" Susan rose from her chair and laughed. "Or have you already? I'm pretty sad at this, I'll admit. You seemed like a One. 10/10 would bang if I could. But tonight I got my final confirmation.

"So don't keep that girl waitin' too long, or she'll drive you up the wall. I know I would."

"You're insane." Light shook his head, his smirk meeker than usual. One, that's what he was.

Susan ambled towards some customers who were huddled around the computer, shouting a stream of curse words. Seemed like it broke down. Her solution? To smack the screen a few times. It worked, marvelously.

"Wow. She's weird," Dai said blankly.

"Weird is an understatement," Light chuckled, turning to leave. She shook his head. "A god has no place in his heart for love."

Through the doors, he disappeared, engulfed by the all too familiar whiteness of the Fourth Dimension's timeline. Nothing appeared to have changed, but that was to be expected. Not only had Dai said that he wouldn't see the future changes until he jumped there, but the events of this point were pretty much the same. What to do, now?

He could go back and handle the L.A. BB situation to get Naomi in his contact list. This he could do at any time, but would it be best to take care of it now? There was also the option of just continuing forward. But when did he want to go? His entire plan was based around Misa's absence. That should've solved everything. Yet, she was still in the game.

Should he go to when she picked up the Death Note? Or would that make things worse, especially should Rem see what's going on. He'd never get Misa's hands off her Death Note at this rate. Plus, if he jumped that far ahead, it'd be hard to go back coherently should he need to. He did not want to be left in the dark again. So what…?

"Naomi or Misa?" Light asked, straightening his posture into something that actually suited him. Yes, this was better. Ignorance was bliss, so to speak.

"I like Naomi Misora more than I do Misa Amane. She seems more… negotiable."

"I can agree with you there. Misa is an utter pain to deal with." Still, though, he wanted to check to see if he changed anything. This was either a very bad idea or a very good one, and he was curious to see either. "But I think I'm going to check on future-Misa." He stopped above an image of Misa cowering in front of a visibly insane man. Maybe he could stop her from ever getting the Death Note, should she still be bent on helping Kira.

He wouldn't need to be shoved through the floor this time. He moved a just enough further so that he would arrive a little before the events he just watched. Taking in a deep breath, he stomped his foot against the ground and slipped right through.

Light was still unable to suppress the small scream that slipped through his lips.

.

* * *

 _"A detective?" Misa asked, her voice shaky. She curled into herself, tears dried upon her cheeks. Chief Porter looked down at her sadly, leaning himself against the wall._

 _"I can't tell you more than that. He lacked enough evidence until the very end. Even tried to save your parents in person." He laughed, but then realized the weight of those final words and mentally slapped himself. "Sorry… Just, uh… Know that he hit the culprit with a frisbee-cutting-board."_

 _Porter was trying his utmost best to lighten the mood, but they both knew it wasn't working. "That's… cool, I guess. Thank you." Misa was over it. She was over it all. Life was unfair. There was no justice in this world. Only cruelty._

 _"I really am sorry about what happened," Porter mumbled. Comforting others wasn't something he knew how to do, let alone well enough for success. Still, he was trying, and Misa appreciated the effort. But…_

 _"Who is he? The detective?" Seeing the hesitation across his features, she clarified. "My parents just died. He tried to save them. Even though it didn't all_ work out _, I want to thank him. Please?"_

 _"I don't even know who he is myself, Miss Amane. I can't help."_

 _She looked up at him, physically responsive for the first time since she heard the news. "Misa forgives you," was all she said._


	10. Chapter 10: Broken

**Chapter 10**

 **Broken**

* * *

.

 _"Is it a curse to think so much? I'm lost in a sea of panic and worry, and I can't always find my way to shore. Is this a curse? Is this what I'm stuck living with? I... I don't want this anymore. I want it to stop. It's not nearly as important to me as it used to be."_

 _~Light Yagami_

* * *

.

There was an air of mystique to the way Misa carried herself. It was something she was quite proud of; her delicate but powerful nature gaining her immense popularity in her career. The amount of work put into this talent of hers was surreal, but it was well worth it. She loved the way all attention was drawn to her. It was one of the few things she enjoyed nowadays.

With a loose sigh, she pulled her hat over her blonde locks. "Thank you!" Misa called, not bothering to look behind her, as she stepped out into the night air.

Today she had decided to treat herself. Naturalistic Cafe was her favorite restaurant; although she visited rarely she had developed quite a love for their salads. They were expensive, sure, but at this point she was confident that she was making enough for a small purchase.

Her dinner thumped gently against the side of her legs, each take-out box concealed within the safety of their respective plastic bags. As she walked, she hummed to herself a tune she didn't remember the origin of. Then again, she had become quite fond of TV dramas; chances are it belonged to one of those.

Misa had traveled the nighttime streets many times before. Yoshi told her how terrible of an idea her carelessness was, but she couldn't help it! The world was so much prettier covered in black. This was her favorite time of day, and soon she would be eating her favorite meal—

"Misa…"

That was an unfamiliar voice. Distinctly male, though. Pursing her lips, she turned to face a small man, his eyes wild and body shaking. Perturbed, she took a step back, watching his every movement.

"Misa, I love you," the man continued, his lips twisting into a disturbing grin, his teeth greenish in the poor lighting. "I love you so much more than anyone else."

"Ex...cuse me?" Misa asked, feeling the weight of the situation slam into her chest. Something tickled the back of her neck, trailing down her spinal cord all the way to her legs. _Run. Run as fast as possible._ But her feet remained grounded, stuck in a state of fearful denial. "I… don't think I know who you are. I'm sorry."

 _Wrong thing to say._ "W-what do you mean? I love you, why don't you understand? I'd do anything for you! I want to protect you forever!" He seemed to curl into himself, face contorting in horror. Misa's eyes widened. "It's… it's okay. If I can't have you," he laughed weakly, "then no one can."

She registered the knife a moment too late. Her legs weren't working but her body reacted, her weight shifting back until she fell over onto the sidewalk. The knife skimmed over the top of her hat; she felt it leave the top of her head the second she hit the ground. But she didn't scream. She didn't cry.

The man was… no longer standing. He was slumped against the wall, his knife discarded on the floor. _Get the knife, just in case._ Misa fumbled for the weapon, wrapping her fingers shakily around the handle. The man, her stalker, stood back up, clearly disoriented. Wait… There was someone else. They were fighting now, pushing and shoving at each other.

When they wound up taking the fight into the street, Misa couldn't tell who was who anymore. Her vision was getting cloudier and cloudier. Was it because of fear? The aftermath of extreme panic? She couldn't tell. Where those people still hitting each other? Who was—?

"Hey, you're okay now."

Now that, that voice was familiar. But who? Misa rubbed at her eyes and tried to see the face of the person in front of her. A blob? Alien? God? No… "Ah, you, I remember you. Pizza Boy. What are you doing here?" Her voice sounded strange. Hoarse, maybe. When had that happened?

Pizza Boy laughed. "I'm… My name is Aru Yoru, actually, but I guess Pizza Boy works too." He smiled warmly at her. "I saw you being attacked and my legs just… moved on their own, I guess. Are you alright?" She nodded, but stiffened, looking around. Where had the stalker gone? He wasn't going to sneak up and kill her now, was he? Pizza Boy noted her panic, placing a hand on her shoulder. "He, uhm… There was a car. He failed to move out of the way in time."

Oh. So that was why she heard someone else's voice in the background, then. They were the driver of that car. Probably calling the police.

"Okay." Misa set the knife down beside her. She was annoyed her fingers were still shaking. She was annoyed she couldn't even do anything that entire time. She was annoyed at herself for not taking Yoshi's advice.

"Hey," Pizza Boy sighed. He shook her shoulder lightly, snapping her attention back. "Are you with me?"

"No," she replied honestly. "I'm not okay. Misa isn't okay." Sniffling, she wrapped her arms around each other, a flood of emotions finally pushing themselves to the surface. Why do these things have to happen to her? God must hate her. No, there is only one God, and He is Kira. He protects the innocent. He saves people like her every day, killing their worst enemies with heart attacks.

But where was He when her parents were targeted? Where was He now, when her life was about to be claimed by a psycho?

"That's normal. Just take some deep breaths, alright? I promise you'll feel better once this blows over." Pizza Boy stood up and walked away. Misa wished she'd followed him with her eyes. She wished she'd told him to stay.

But by the time she worked up the motivation, he was long gone, his presence replaced by an upset driver and several police officers.

Yoshi came to pick her up, escorting her to her apartment and double-checking she wasn't injured. Misa had a break, now; she told Yoshi directly that she would be unable to perform anything anytime soon. Yoshi agreed and eventually left her alone, lips pursed worriedly the entire time.

Misa found a little black notebook on her bed that evening.

.

* * *

 _The ocean water lapped up against her ankles. The girl stood frozen, adrenaline still racing through her veins. No one would find her here, she knew that. No one in this area would know her name or of the things she'd done. It was best this way. She could start anew._

 _"Three names written so far," came a voice, soft and gentle as it blew with the wind. "How interesting. I expected more than that."_

 _She shivered, fear increasing her pulse. She spun her head around, searching for the source, but saw nothing. "Who are you? Where are you?"_

 _"I'm... the one who dropped the little book you have there." She tensed at those words, hands reaching protectively for the notebook in question. "I'm not going to take it from you, if that's what you're worried about. In fact, I just want to watch. Think of me as nothing more than an observer. Although, I suppose if you need something from me, feel free to ask. I will answer you."_

 _"You are... God, aren't you?" she asked, voice quivering. "Tsukihi. You aren't mad at me? I have used your powers without permission."_

 _"No. I am not."_

 _The waves calmed down, the cold water somehow warming her heart. "Then I am forgiven?_ _I am not worthy._ _Thank you, Tsukihi."_

* * *

.

"What the fuck was that?"

Light didn't consider himself very crude. He reserved foul language for occasions when he really, truly needed it. This, however, was one of those times.

"I mean it. What the actual fuck was that?"

Dai wasn't taking his anger seriously, and that was pissing him off much more than he thought it would. Than he thought it should. He wanted to punch something in this white land of nothingness, but he'd already done plenty of punching tonight. And punching was not his forte, hence the blossoming bruises on his knuckles. This wasn't the worst of his problems, though.

"I need an answer, please, because that was not—"

"I restored your consciousness and healed your wounds," came Dai's reply, laughter accompanying it. "I wonder: what's it like to be hit by a car?"

Vexation called up several rude comebacks, but a few deep breaths had Light's rage settling down. "It sucks, to be blunt," he growled. He knew the deity wouldn't be satisfied with that, though. "It's… it's almost worse than being shot, I think. I thought all my limbs had been severed there for a moment, but I was numb until you… healed me, or whatever the hell you did." Now, he wanted to cry. Great Light Yagami, God, Kira, wanted to curl into a little ball and cry. "It still feels like I'm scratched up, by the way. If you could fix that, that'd be wonderful."

"I did 'fix that'. You're scratch-free. What you're experiencing now is probably psychological or something." Dai sounded excited about that, which kinda creeped Light out. "Is it like a burning sensation, or something more?"

Light shook his head with a frown, starting to move along the top of the timeline. "Let's just not talk about that, yeah? I guess what's more important is why the hell I ran out and beat the guy up like that. Gelus was supposed to kill the man with a heart attack, not use me to move him into the road."

"Were you not going to attack him anyways?" That was true: Light had planned to swoop in and rescue Misa before Gelus could die. If Gelus lived, Misa wouldn't get his Death Note. It would solidify his plan for good.

"Still. I wanted to disable him, not run out with him into the middle of the road," Light clarified.

"You're a human, and thus you are susceptible to the Death Note's powers. Gelus probably saw you following Misa Amane like a creeper and planned to have you, or whoever would wind up being the nearest person, to push that stalker in front of the car."

That was reasonable. Something like… 'dies from a car accident after being involved in a fight with the human who interrupted his plans.' But why go to such lengths? Light opened his mouth but was stopped short.

"I wonder: what would freak out a young girl more? Her attacker dropping dead from a spontaneous heart attack or a normal, easily explained car accident?" That was rhetorical, but it helped answer Light's own question. Gelus cared not only for Misa's physical well-being, but her mental state. Of-freaking-course.

"Does this matter?" Light asked with a roll of his eyes. "It's Misa. Misa, who is now no longer going to be involved with anything Kira-related. I don't care about her anymore because she doesn't matter." He didn't know that for sure, but he hoped that was the case. She was gone, he didn't have to worry about her and her antics, and everything will go smoothly from there.

"You tell me. Has what happened mattered? Will it continue to matter?"

His mouth moved to say no but his voice didn't escape. The questions were valid in every right. What he'd done really will matter now and for the rest of the timeline, wouldn't it? But it was a good change. One that would assist Kira. Fix everything Misa had messed up.

Instead of admitting anything, he shrugged, eyebrows furrowing as he continued to walk around the Fourth Dimension. Where to next? He hadn't given this much thought. He was curious to jump and see how much things had changed, if L was still dead and Near was close to following. If he himself was free from all possibility of death. But just his presence alone in another part of the timeline could mess things up. He couldn't risk ruining perfection.

Because that was what he had accomplished with all this, of course. Perfection. His plan was perfection and it would be carried out to fruition and beyond. If not already, then soon enough.

"Who does Misa Amane love?" Dai hadn't spoken for a while; the sudden question came as a surprise for Light.

"Kira. Me," he said and pursed his lips. Misa had made that painfully obvious. It didn't matter if the love was reciprocated or not. She followed him around like a puppy regardless. So easily swayed.

Dai let out a huff. "You are not entirely wrong. But still, try again, Light Yagami." Light froze in his steps, face scrunched up with confusion. "Who does she love now that everything's been changed? Think: the man who rescued her so heroically from a stalker, the mysterious detective who tried to save her parents, what do they all have in common?"

A frown made its way onto Light's lips. So what if she had some silly crush on those half-assed personas of his? It… didn't matter. "I guess as long as she's not infatuated with Kira anymore, she won't send any tapes to Sakura T.V., so who cares what she does with her Death Note? There's not much I can do about that, really; Rem is going to give it to her no matter what now that Gelus is dead. Let her kill off her model competitors with subtle deaths for all I care. She's at least smart enough for that."

Don't get Light wrong: Misa was never dumb. She could be annoying and impulsive, not to mention stubborn, but she did have pretty average intelligence, if not higher. She could handle herself well enough to avoid the Kira Investigation now. Since she'll figure out Kira uses a Death Note too, she'll probably stick to using things other than heart attacks to get what she wants. She'll separate herself from that mess for her own safety.

"I don't see how you can trust her so much with her Note, but I suppose if you're comfortable with it, then so am I."

In that sudden moment, Light wanted to yell. He wanted to use the Death Note and go on a mindless killing spree because screw his luck and his mental attitude towards this whole shebang. It wasn't okay to have Misa running around wildly with a Death Note and he knew it. Why the hell had he rejected this train of thought like that? Was he really so desperate for an easy break? That was stupid. So, so stupid. Careless, too.

"Can… Can I get a redo?" he asked, but laughed it off sadly, knowing full well that wasn't an option. Light needed to steal Misa's Note before she could do any damage with it. He couldn't use it for anything, but—

"No redos, and I've decided you aren't allowed to take away another human's Death Note." Oh, for the love of... "I'm afraid Misa Amane deserves to have that Note. It belongs to her now, for the shinigami who once owned it risked everything for her life. Everything includes all his possessions, too. There is only one thing that is left after a shinigami dies, and that is their Death Note. It is only right Misa Amane receives it."

That sounded… oddly personal. "Fine. But you're making this harder on me, Dai, and I don't appreciate it."

"You're the one who made it hard on yourself," Dai quipped back. "Don't blame me, Light Yagami. It was your fault for overlooking this. Love is not something to be ignored. It's a powerful thing. You could've planned better to avoid this."

"You're weird," Light snapped, almost hissing. What an idiot this deity was, thinking so little of him, rattling off nonsense about love. Screw all that. Screw Misa. Light had a plan. Well, Light… was going to have a plan. There was a way to turn this in his favor; there always was.

"We're both weird. Broken. The only difference here is that you have the opportunity to put your pieces back together," Dai said, voice much softer than before. "Please, do not make me regret this. I have given you a second chance, so use it to its fullest. Do the things you couldn't do before."

It was a moment before Light realized he'd been holding his breath. "I know. Kira will win this time."

He turned to follow his own footsteps, retracing everything he'd done so far. Over Misa's stalker incident, over her parents' death. He came back to the sweet scent of strawberry cake, to the little frame showing L working fervently on some documents. And he cursed, turning back around abruptly only to stand still some more.

"You know, I didn't bring you here for Kira to win." Dai chuckled, but it was weak. "I brought you here for you to win."

Light snorted. "I don't know what you mean by that."

"But you do. It's just a matter of you accepting it," Dai stated. "Perhaps some encouragement is in order, though."

A buzz. It came from Light's pocket. His phone hummed against his leg in rhythmic beats before settling down into silence. It was… the S.O.S vibrating text alert? He blinked once, then twice, pulling out the small device like it might be a bomb.

The time and date were for a December 31st, for a New Year's. "What did you do to my phone?" he asked breathlessly. His palms were starting to sweat and that served to tip him further over the ledge. "Did you change what 'time' it's in? Is that kind of thing possible?" The date wasn't his concern, though. It was the notification that he'd received only a few seconds ago, the message he was still staring at in bewilderment.

 **Panda** (now)

 _You are… strange._

"I figured you should see that I'm not the only one who has determined your weirdness." As if it had never been there before, it was gone, the time and date on Light's lock screen snapping back to their original state. "Perhaps reevaluate who you want to be this time around, Light Yagami."

He felt like a fish, mouth opening and closing as if was struggling to breathe out of water. "If… I still don't understand what you're going on about. But, if I give… If I press on like you want me to, and shit hits the fan, you have to restart things again for me. Okay?"

"Very well then. It will be done."

.

* * *

 _"So you're... Rem?"_

 _"Yes. And that Death Note you have will allow you to kill any human you choose. It is yours now. Use it as you wish."_

 _"Oh... I see. Thank you, Rem."_

 _"Aren't you going to test it out?"_

 _"No. I think I'm okay for now. Misa is tired. She's had a long day. Besides, I don't want to kill anyone just yet. Maybe later."_

 _"...I see. Rest well."_

 _~March 12, 2004_


	11. Chapter 11: Begining

**Chapter 11**

 **Begining**

* * *

 _._

 _Punching the tree was not one of Light's best decisions. He swore, shaking his hand and hissing. Ryuk started to laugh hysterically, clearly amused by the human's frustration._

" _Who was it?" Light asked through a growl, spinning back around and reclining against the tree he just assaulted. "L? Four? Someone else?" He carded his fingers through his hair, calming his racing heartbeat. "It can be L. L was the one that woman wanted to get in contact with. It was Four who called, who knew 'Shoko Maki' was at risk because of what she knew. Damn him and his timing…"_

 _Ryuk only continued to chuckle, his deformed shoulders bouncing with_ delight.

* * *

.

Naomi… wasn't sure about Light Yagami. Sure, he was the police chief's son—that was confirmed by the receptionist's reaction to him—but there was something off about the boy. A certain glimmer in his brown eyes that declared intelligence beyond what he let on. And the way he talked to her? Like he was speaking to a child whose hand needed to be held lest they run away.

It was strange, to say the least. His interest in the Kira case and what she had found out while conducting her private investigation was also… strange. Even after she'd said that she would be fine by herself, here he was, claiming to have more to tell her.

She didn't really mind his eccentricity, though; his dad could open the door for her into the investigation. If he was going to keep following her around all day, all she had to do was wait for Light's phone to ring. Once it did, she could talk to Chief Yagami herself. Possibly L, too, if he was with him.

"Oh." Her phone. It rang once over, buzzing gently against her side. She retrieved it from the coat pocket to check the caller ID, but it wasn't displayed. She ignored the call. "Sorry about that."

"No worries," Light replied, his smile wider than ever. "I hope it wasn't anything important." He said it like a statement but it rolled off his tongue like a question.

"It was probably a telemarketer," Naomi said, too tense to shrug. "You… were saying?" She did manage a smile, hoping it wouldn't come off as too desperate for information. Her curiosity tended to seep into her voice no matter what she did, but until she knew this boy better she would try to keep her emotions hidden.

"Right," Light continued. "Anyways, it's impossible to contact anyone directly in headquarters right now." His eyes scanned her face yet seemed to look almost through her.

What did he mean by that? Were they somewhere besides the headquarters? Could they only be reached by cell? If that was the case, then why? "What do you mean?" Naomi pressed.

"Don't you think it's odd that—"

Once again Naomi's phone rang, interrupting Light before he could go any further. She felt terrible and bowed her head, retrieving the small device with an apologetic smile. Unknown caller ID. Again. With a sigh, she flipped it on silent and put it into her purse.

"Telemarketer again?" Light asked, to which Naomi shrugged. She didn't know for sure if it was or not, but everyone she knew had a contact stored in her phone. Who else could be trying to get ahold of her? Unless—

Her purse started to buzz. She saw Light's earnest expression waver. "I'm really sorry. Maybe it is someone I know… Please excuse me. I'd like to take this in private."

"It's no problem. I'll be here." It was—the annoyance was plain on his face now—but he was better at keeping things under wrap than Naomi. Her cheeks were brightening already.

Naomi bowed for the final time, hurrying away with a wave of her hand. She answered her phone as she moved, analyzing the stores and restaurants around her for someplace quiet to be. "Hello," she said, craning her neck to check behind her. "I'm sorry for not answering the first time around, but I'm alone now."

"What are you doing right now?" the robotic voice over the phone asked her, sharp and to the point. Panic hit her stomach.

"I'm sorry, I know you told me to wait, that you were going to handle it and tell L, but I really… I thought the sooner I told someone on the task force the sooner I could relax." Naomi bit her lip and pressed her back against the wall of the alleyway.

There was a pause, but although it wasn't long, it felt like entire minutes ticked by. "Can you come to CAFEEL—the one next to To-Oh University? Now?"

"Huh?" Naomi said dumbly. It was also a little louder than she expected it to be.

"I know something not even L does, and I'd like to cooperate with you on the matter. Face-to-face." Naomi's jaw loosened, her lips parting into a distinct 'o'. "Can you?"

"Well, I… I suppose I can do that." She was hung up on, but that action didn't offend her in the slightest. Having now acquired a lump in her throat, she massaged the bridge of her nose. Her eyes watched the time on her watch tick by for another minute or two before she shook herself off and left the alley.

Light had stayed true to his word, eyes closed and head lowered in the same spot she'd left him in. What teenaged boy had that much patience? He looked up the moment she approached him, that same smirk still in place. "That wasn't a very long call," he noted casually, clearly curious. "A friend?"

Naomi smiled at him, feeling much more at ease. "Yes. A very good friend. If you don't mind now, I have to be going." _Think, Naomi. Think._ "She locked herself out of her apartment again. I have a key on me, so I'm going to let her in."

Light seemed to buy it, his head nodding in understanding. "It's alright. Goodbye, Shoko Maki." Naomi replied in kind, turning to walk in the opposite direction he did. She was grateful he didn't follow her this time; it would've been a pain to try and lose him at this time of day. Civilians were small in number in this part of town.

Was this excitement or anxiety she was feeling? Her feet were heavy against the sidewalk but she held herself tall, fingers wrapped tightly around her purse. A bit of both? God, what was she, a child? She scolded herself and yet kept grinning, twisting the purse strap this way and that.

She had been to this CAFEEL branch store once or twice, long before she moved to America to start her career. It was surprising to see the coffee shop still there, although heavily renovated.

...she wished she could've brought Raye here.

The cafe walls were painted a muddy yellow with brown board and batten. There were a few people inside, clustered amongst several tables and talking excitedly amongst each other. Naomi ignored them and beckoned over a waitress.

"Hi, I'm here meeting up with a friend of mine. Is he here already?" she asked. The waitress pursed his lips in thought before gesturing to the left side of the cafe. Naomi smiled in thanks and headed over, her steps slow and hesitant.

Around the corner of the left side was a smaller area, the section empty of people except for one. He wore far more layers than she thought necessary indoors, but it was reasonable considering they kept his face covered. Taking in a deep breath, she headed over to his table, sitting herself down. She racked her brain for clever greetings but found none that were worth saying. Thankfully, she didn't need to.

"Hey, Naomi Misora," the man said, looking up to acknowledge her. Naomi's heart jumped at the sound, only now realizing the weight of all this. This was actually Four, sitting across from her at CAFEEL, no tricks, no gimmicks. She could've sworn that he would send a stand-in, but there was no mistaking the voice as belonging to the person she'd spoken with over the phone.

"Hello." Naomi fiddled with her hands, unsure if she should take her coat off or leave it on—a silly thing to have her mind stuck on, but she couldn't do much to help it. It was either that or stare at Four and try to identify his face underneath that scarf and cap, and that would just be… rude.

Four seemed to see what she was trying to do, as he pulled his scarf up further before speaking. "I'll be honest with you: I don't actually have information that L doesn't. But I would like to collaborate with you if you'll let me."

Opening and closing her mouth a few times, Naomi struggled with finding the right words with which to respond. One word, in particular, was nagging the back of her mind, begging to be said aloud. "Why?" she breathed, brows furrowing. "I know I had some theories going, but—"

"Your theories are exactly why," Four continued, shrugging as if that was obvious. "I don't want you wandering the streets while knowing so much. You need to be with someone. And why not let that someone be me?"

The waitress stopped by, setting down to plain coffees upon the table. Cream and sugars were also supplied. Naomi took hers straight up, however, not having the mindset to focus on how much sugar she wanted. Four didn't touch his. She wondered if it was just for show.

Once the waitress left, Four took out a small scrap of paper. On it was a scribbled down address. "An apartment," Four explained, answering Naomi's unsaid question. "You can't stay at your old place anymore; it's too risky. We will live together from now on at that location."

"Together?" Naomi's brows furrowed, a look of bewilderment stretching across her features. "I can't just—"

"I will provide you with direct communication to L." This had Naomi's mouth snapped shut. "We can investigate together, in a safe enviornment. Any discoveries made will be relayed to L and the task force he's working with."

Naomi was silent, hands still wrapped around her mug despite the burning sensation against her hands. She watched the black liquid swirl as she bit her lip. "Why?" she asked again. "Why me? Why now?"

"Because," Four began, sliding out from the booth and standing up, "I felt something bad was going to happen to you. You're a good woman, Naomi." With that, he left. Naomi's eyes followed him until he rounded the corner, disappearing off to who knew where.

Sighing, she twirled the piece of paper around, knowing that despite all her concerns, her disbelief, she was going to agree. Kira had to be caught. Her husband had to be avenged. She wasn't just about to pass up an opportunity like this.

.

* * *

" _So, what're you up to?" Dai asked for the seventh time. Light was starting to grit his teeth every time the deity spoke up. "Why won't you tell me?" He didn't even have it all figured out himself, yet, so why the fuck did Dai keep asking? "I'm curious."_

" _You're annoying," Light spat, then realized he had to keep his voice down. He didn't need the waitress to come back over and check on him only to see him yelling at a voice in his head. "I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know why I'm doing it. Do you know how much I hate that? Not knowing? It sucks. But I just feel like I have to do this."_

 _Dai hummed, long and vexatious. "Why?"_

 _Light wanted to slam his head on the table. He just said he didn't know. A better question would be why Dai had chosen now to be so infuriating. "If I answer you now, will you be quiet when Naomi arrives?" He took Dai's silence as a yes. "Just… Maybe some people don't need to die in this. Maybe they deserve to live and… realize my vision. Something like that."_

* * *

.

The apartment was nice. Really nice. In fact, Naomi was sure it shouldn't be so cheap. Perhaps Four had done some sweet-talking? Regardless, she had no complaints about paying for it, despite the fact that she knew full well it could be paid for her. Four no doubt had plenty of money.

She wondered if the reason he had her rent the place herself was to get her out of that old apartment, the one she used to share with Raye. Could that be it, or was he reading into things? It was a sweet thought.

Rubbing at her tired eyes, Naomi plopped several grocery bags onto the counter. The rest was carried into the first bedroom. Her stuff was discarded on the floor as she flopped against the bed, exhausted. She'd spent the entire day packing up whatever she could take on her own. Now, after talking to the landlady, here she was.

There was still some stuff back at home… well, not home, but… she was too tired to think about that. She figured she could use some rest. Rolling over, she buried her head into the clean pillow. Just a short nap. Just a short...

Something was burning. That was the first thing that occurred to Naomi as she opened her eyes. Rolling over in the bed, she sat herself up, yawning and stretching. She'd slept in her clothes. Judging by the light streaming in through the curtains, she'd also slept for much longer than intended. That didn't matter to her now, though. She was far more concerned with the smell of smoke and the sound of arguing.

Opening her door, she poked her head out into the joint living room and kitchen. A man stood in front of the sink, flushing something inside of a pot with obscene amounts of water. He was cursing, yelling and waving at the air. Brown hair, flawless skin… If only his back wasn't turned towards her.

"Uhm…" Naomi started to make her way over to the kitchen. The man didn't notice her, too invested in his strange, very concerning argument. "Hello?" she tried again, this time obtaining his attention.

"Well, hi," he said after a moment, freezing up his movements. Naomi recognized that voice. Four? She knew he said they'd share the apartment, but… "Sorry if I woke you up. I was cooking. Trying to cook, anyway. I thought I could handle it but it's pretty hard when you have… Nevermind."

Raising her eyebrows, Naomi took another step forward. "Four? I guess this settles things, then." She really just wanted him to turn around already. The curiosity was too much for her to handle. There was also the worry that he was slightly psycho (perhaps even delusional considering the fact that he was yelling at himself), but that could wait until later.

She got her wish. Four turned around, his hands and the front of his shirt soaking wet. He was not who she thought he was.

"Light Yagami?" Eyes wide, Naomi pointed at him, analyzing his features. "Wait, no…" He was too old to be Light. His chin was sharper, his eyes narrower, his cheekbones more distinct. Still, the familiarity was too strong to be coincidental. Right?

"That would be the Cheif's son? I can see where you might be confused. I guess I do look a lot like him," Four said, shaking the water off his hands. "You may call me Aru Yoru. I look forward to working on the Kira case with you." He looked back at the mess in the sink. "And I apologize for all this. Things have not been going my way lately."

Naomi nodded. "The resemblance is creepy," she noted, then scolded herself for such an offhand comment. Luckily Four—Aru—laughed, if only a little awkwardly. "What were you trying to do?" she asked instead, trying to get a look at whatever he'd been extinguishing.

"I was trying to make a cake. It was… a dare. From a friend. I also used up some of the groceries you brought. Sorry." Aru gestured to the plastic bags on the counter. Naomi waved dismissively, piecing together the situation.

"So, you can't cook?" she asked. It was a rhetorical question, but saying it aloud helped her understand her thoughts. She supposed it made sense someone like Aru didn't know how to cook or bake. He was probably wrapped up in cases all day and had someone do those things for him. Now, it looked like that would become her job.

"No, no I can't," Aru agreed. "I don't know why I let Dai talk me into this." He scowled, rummaging around through the drawers from a dishrag. Finding none, he settled with using his pants instead. "I followed the recipe down to the nail yet it caught on fire."

Naomi lolled her head to the side, frowning. "...Topic? What are you talking about?" Aru's head turned to stare at her, then he shrugged.

"My friend. The one who dared me. They have a pretty weird name, huh?" he chuckled, turning back on the water on the sink again. "Dai. Kinda like the English word 'day'." There was a pause, both of them feeling awkward in the silence. "Speaking of days, today is New Year's Eve."

"Oh," Naomi replied. She'd forgotten, what with everything that's been going on.

She helped Aru clean up the kitchen. The cake really had burned up and was now charred, soggy, and disturbing to look at. Beyond that, though, it turned out she'd slept through most of the day. A televised celebration for the New Year was broadcasting, which she turned on to have running in the background while she wiped down the counters.

Just as Naomi finished up, her phone rang from her room. She shared a look with Aru before rushing to grab the device before whoever was calling had to leave a voicemail. Finding the phone on the nightstand, she picked it up.

"Naomi Misora." For the second time in the past twenty-four hours, her heart did a backflip. "This is L. I was told by Four that you had some interesting information regarding the Kira case that you would like to share. Please, do so."

Naomi did. She described everything she'd investigated since Raye's death, from the bus jacking incident to her theory of Kira being able to kill in more ways than one. L listened to her, his scrambled voice not once speaking up to interrupt her like she expected.

"Thank you," L said after she had finished. Feeling good about herself, she took in several deep breaths, a smile on her face. "Mrs. Misora, if you wouldn't mind, could you tell me where you are at this very moment?"

The question was unexpected, but she answered anyways. "I'm… with Four." L hummed in response, curiosity hidden under the many jumbled layers.

"Could you put him on the phone, please?" Hearing this, Naomi turned around to head out of her room, but stopped before she could start. Aru was positioned in the doorway, leaning against the frame. He smiled, like he knew what L had asked, and then shook his head.

"I'm sorry, but he declines," Naomi spoke into her phone. She gave Aru a meek thumbs-up, unsure if he would appreciate such a playful gesture. Although he didn't return it, his smile didn't waver, which she took as a good sign.

"Very well then," came L's reply. "Thank you for your work, Mrs. Misora." He hung up, which Naomi expected. She wasn't offended in the slightest, though. With the things she'd found out, hopefully, the investigation will proceed faster. Would Raye be proud to know she'd helped?

Bowing her head, she thanked Aru for getting her in contact with L. He shrugged before turning back into the joint living room and kitchen. Naomi followed, watching as he sat down at the couch and turned up the television's volume.

Right, New Year's Eve. She sat down in the armchair, feeling lighter than she had yesterday. "Happy New Year," she muttered under her breath.

.

* * *

 _ **Panda**_ _(11:58 pm)_

 _To the New Year and a chance to catch Kira._

 _ **You**_ _(11:59 pm)_

 _To you getting some sleep for once in your life?_

 _ **Panda**_ _(12:00 am)_

 _Maybe next year._


	12. Chapter 12: Break

**Chapter 12**

 **Break**

(Warning: Unedited work. Again, since I took so long to update, I'm throwing this out there before I'm satisfied with it as a way of apologizing. Sort of.)

* * *

 _._

 _The glass of wine hit the carpet, staining it red. Light turned to stare at Naomi, whose hands covered her face. Tears streaked down her cheeks as she silently wept. The clock had just struck midnight on New Year's Eve, and yet…_

 _"Misora, what's the matter?" Light asked, straightening up in his chair. She cried harder after he'd spoken, her shoulders shaking heavily._

 _"We… Raye… just… I'm starting a new year without him." Naomi sniffled, wiping her tears on the edge of her sleeve. "I can't believe it. That he's gone, you know…" She hiccuped and bent down to pick up the glass. It was too late, though, the liquid soaked deep into the shaggy fabric._

 _Light grit his teeth. "I'm sorry."_

 _Standing up with a small, half-hearted smile, Naomi shook her head. "It's okay. It's not your fault; it's Kira's." That only made Light's frown deepen._

* * *

.

Nibbling away at the tip of his thumb, L bit into the skin, peeling away a thin layer. It wasn't so much a nervous tick as it was a sign of frustration. Something he did while mulling over things that actually required a little thought. It sometimes led to blood, which he always sucked away before Watari caught sight of it, but he persisted with the bad habit nonetheless. He was, after all, a stubborn man.

"Again, if you will," L ordered, then lowered his thumb to hold and lick gingerly at the ice cream cone Watari handed him. Aizawa sighed and then yawned, fumbling with the buttons to rewind the tape. He then pushed play, and the task force proceeded to watch over the same scene once more: that of Raye Penber's death.

The FBI agent had fallen to the floor, body trembling in agony. It was as depressing as it was terrifying, proof of Kira's power right before their eyes. But that wasn't what interested L. No, he was much more fascinated by the figure who rushed to Raye's side, hood up and face mask firmly secured. The other people at the station merely continued about their business. A few stopped to stare. But this one, this one man, had run to his side. Not only that but, as Raye scrambled to look back into the train, the man's gaze followed.

If his theory was right, and someone on the train was Kira, then both Raye and that man had seen him. One of those two were dead. It seemed obvious to him where the investigation now should be headed.

"Again." L's tongue ran along his lips. Matsuda groaned, only to be scolded by Soichiro. "If you have a problem, Mr. Matsuda, do speak up." He knew he was giving the wrong kind of encouragement, but he himself was so fed up with the young officer that he decided his disgruntled attitude was warranted.

Matsuda squeaked, swallowing audibly, before balling his hands into fists. "We keep watching the same thing over again. What more are we supposed to look for?" he said, his voice shaky. L had to give him some amount of credit for that. "We already know about the envelope now that you explained it to us. And, I mean, we're all thinking the same thing. That guy is Kira. So—"

"He's not Kira. Kira was on that train." Almost tempted to roll his eyes, L pointed to the screen at the paused image of Raye and the man looking to the closing doors. It's a subtle shift of position for the man, but it's obvious with Raye. "Why else would Mr. Penber be struggling to see in?"

Mouth forming an 'o' shape, Matsuda's brows furrowed. He rewound the tape. While the task force watched it yet again, L turned to face Watari behind the couch.

"Send digital copies of the tapes to Four," he requested. Watari nodded and backed off silently. It wasn't too long after that his phone dinged with a notification. The others heard it too, all eyes turning to L with anticipation. It was funny, he thought, for them all to know who that text was from just by the tone alone.

Retrieving the device, L held it up from the corners and turned it on.

 ** _Four_** _(3:12 am)_

 _You're really sending me things at this hour, L?_

The detective sucked at his bottom lip.

 ** _You_** _(3:12 am)_

 _Since when do you call me L and not some other ridiculous nickname?_

The response took a while, although L could see Four was typing on and off. The task force members were visibly impatient as well as exhausted, wanting nothing more than to be done with their meeting today.

"Well, what's he say?" Aizawa asked as he rubbed at his eyes. L didn't answer.

 ** _Four_ **_(3:14 am)_

 _I didn't know you preferred me calling you Panda, Panda._

Now that was more like it. Still, the slip up was bothering the sleep-deprived detective more than he'd like to admit. Things like that didn't just go under the radar with him. Something had to be up, but perhaps now wasn't the time to mention it. After all, the insinuation cast by sending the tapes was still up in the air.

 ** _Four_** _(3:15 am)_

 _Yes, it was me._

L hummed, which jolted a few of the officers with him awake. "It was him at the station with Mr. Penber," he explained, noting with disinterest the wide eyes staring at him.

"S-so he saw Kira on that train! He must've!" Matsuda exclaimed far too loudly for the others in the room, who winced. "Ask him what he looks like. If he recognized him. If—"

"Matsuda, please," Aizawa sighed. "If Four had seen Kira he would've told us." He paused, brows furrowing. "Wouldn't he?" The reality of it was that none of them knew where Four lay on the moral spectrum. Would he aid them? Or was it all a mere front and they were just fools?

 ** _You_** _(3:16 am)_

 _Did you see anyone else on the train before the doors closed?_

 ** _Four_ **_(3:16 am)_

 _No. I'm sorry. But he was looking at no one._

A sigh left L's lips. He didn't believe that. "There really wasn't anyone on the train that Four could see," he told the task force. It was annoying having to relay information to them as if they were children. Things would go so much smoother in this investigation if they could read minds. Wouldn't they get to the truth much faster?

"So then… we've got nothing," Soichiro breathed, shoulders slumping in disappointment.

 ** _You_** _(3:17 am)_

 _Tell me what happened, please._

 ** _Four_ **_(3:18 am)_

 _I was passing through the station on my way home. Saw the guy collapse with a heart attack. I didn't realize he was an FBI agent until I found his ID._

It made sense. Everything Four said made sense. Yet, for some reason, L couldn't find it in him to trust it. Lies, that's what it must be. But why? Was Four deeper into the case? Personally involved?

L took another bite of ice cream, a heavy feeling weighing on him.

.

* * *

 _"You want to do what now, Light Yagami?"_

 _The clarification wasn't necessary, both Dai and Light knew, but the brown-haired male decided to provide it anyway. "I told you: I want to go back and save Raye Penber. I don't know how, but I'm… I've got to at least try."_

 _If he could see Dai's face, he imagined the god would be smiling. "Oh-ho! Kira is gonna go rescue another person he killed in the past?" Light groaned as he stuffed a few things into his hoodie's pockets._

 _"Yes. I'm going to. I don't care what the consequences are." Taking one last look in the mirror, Light straightened up his appearance one final time. Truth be told, he wasn't at all sure of what he was doing, let alone why he was doing it. But when he'd seen Naomi's tears just minutes ago, he knew what he had to do: save Raye Penber. How hard could that possibly be?_

* * *

.

"Fuck it all!" The lamp hit the mirror with tremendous force, causing it to shatter. Light breathed in and out heavily, staring at the glass shards scattered across the ground. "Fuck it all," he repeated.

"Perhaps I should've told you first," Dai piped up, "that some things—"

Light threw the alarm clock against the wall, watching it break into several pieces. After more deep breaths, he moved to rub his eyes. "Some things can't be changed? But why the hell not?!" His voice was a low growl.

"There are some events that are... fated to happen," Dai began, and then hurriedly continued when he saw Light grabbing the flower vase. "That doesn't mean you can't change them, though! It's… complicated. When things have already worked out a certain way in the future because of you, it's harder to change the past. Perhaps that's why you had such bad luck."

Setting down the vase, Light sighed. "You have no idea yourself, do you?"

Dai was silent for a second. "No, no I don't. Although you aren't the first human I've made this deal with, I don't know all the ins and outs of time manipulation myself. Which, to be honest, is kind of ironic considering that's supposed to be my domain."

Curiosity prickled the back of Light's neck. "Who have you time traveled with before? And how did it work out?" he inquired, plopping down on the edge of the bed. He gripped and released the sheets beneath him a few times, frustration still pulsing through his veins.

"That… 'Who' doesn't matter. But I will tell you this: it didn't go as planned."

A scowl formed on Light's face, but he knew he wouldn't get any further than he already was. He rolled his head back and stared up at the ceiling. No doubt Naomi was concerned about all the yelling. At this point, though, he couldn't care less. Once more a plan had failed. First was saving Misa's parents. Next was Raye Penber. What was he supposed to do if everything continued to fail? What was the point of trying? Nothing was working out in his favor.

There was a knock on the door. "May I come in?" Naomi asked. "I want to… make sure you're okay." Worry lined her voice, genuine and heartfelt. He felt sickened just hearing that. How could she possibly care about a monster like him?

"I'm not who you think I am," Light snapped, head lowering. "Why are you so concerned? Just label me insane and go do something worthwhile." He huffed, knuckles turning white from the tight hold he had on the sheets.

The door clicked open and Naomi stepped in, unsure but determined. "I think I know that now." She rubbed the back of her neck. Of course, she'd eavesdropped. He expected as much. "Time travel?" Her expression was conflicted, stuck wondering if she really could believe such a thing, but she was pushing her skepticism away. "Please, you can tell me. I want to help and catch Kira."

Brown eyes flashed over to Naomi, scanning her features. Light wondered if it could really be that easy, if he could really tell her. After a brief hesitation, he shook his head, gaze cast back down to the floor.

"You… don't have to keep it all to yourself. That's a lot of pressure for just one man." She sat down beside Light, a good distance away but close enough to lower her voice. "And, I mean, I know you're not a regular man. You're a genius. But you're also only human." That term put him on edge and he bit his lip.

"I," Light started, then swallowed. "I came from the future to fix things." A vague answer. He could tell Naomi knew he was withholding information. But the truth was that he couldn't tell if his intentions were still the same anymore. What was he even doing here? Avoiding death? But for what purpose?

Naomi pursed her lips. "Okay. So what do we need to do?" Such a simple question and yet Light didn't know how to answer. She seemed to see this and offered a small smile. "When things are too complicated for me to manage, I resort to the basics. Food, water, sleep." She stood up and stretched. "I'll go cook you something since last time you almost burnt down the apartment."

Light looked up at her with dull eyes, giving a curt nod. The basics… He could do that. It was just for now. He was… going to take a break.

.

* * *

 _"Everything. Anything. Just say the word."_

 _~Dai_

* * *

.

Naomi was an internal mess. She fumbled with the cooking utensils, her hands shaking. It was a lot to take in, if any of it was the actual truth. For all she knew, Aru was crazy. She seriously doubted that, but, at this point, she wasn't sure what to think.

Time travel was difficult enough to grasp on its own. But the fact that a time traveler was actual Four, who actually was most likely Light Yagami from the future… Well, it was a lot to handle. She could tell there was still more to this than Aru—Light—was letting on. Yet that could wait. She needed to process the current bomb first before she could take on any more.

Light hadn't come out from his room yet, which she understood. Whatever had him so stressed, it was reasonable for him to be comatose, if only for a day or two. Back in her days at the FBI, she too would overwork herself, pushing until she could barely stand, until her boss had to force her to take a vacation.

So that was what she would do for Light. Force him to take a vacation. Regain himself. Focus on what it was they would need to do in order to catch Kira.

That was what Naomi assumed to be the problem, after all. Whatever happened in the future, it wasn't good. She could only imagine Kira having taken over humanity, thousands of people dead for mistakes they didn't mean to make. She feared the worst. Thank god Light had come back in time to make sure that never happened.

The omelets were done, and Naomi removed them from the pan, placing them precariously on their respective plates. She picked one up and headed to Light's room. She wound up stopping in the doorway.

He was asleep, strewn out across the bed in what Naomi saw as an uncomfortable position. The blankets weren't even covering him. Returning the plate to the counter, Naomi sighed. She wasn't sure how to proceed with things. A part of her held faith that Light was telling the truth, as bizarre and as complicated as it sounded. The other wanted to pretend the events of the past hour and a half had never happened. She was at an impasse, one she wasn't sure she could pass on her own.

.

* * *

 _Sayu puffed up her cheeks, her chin resting on the edge of her desk as she looked up at her computer screen. She was tasked with writing a paper on a recently debated crime. The suspect accused of murdering his wife and daughter had a supposedly rock-solid alibi._

 _Blowing out some air, Sayu's bangs flitted upwards before falling back down against her forehead. "Boring boring boring," she muttered, scooching her chair back. " I don't wanna do this."_

 _Unlike math, she was adept with essays and literature. It was easy for her. She didn't have to go to her big brother for help. But that also meant she was bored doing it. It was like a double-edged sword._

 _"It's so obvious. I don't know why they can't convict him, especially when it's clear how flawed his alibi is." She paused, turning back to the computer screen. A notification had popped up at the corner of the screen. Curious, she sat back down and opened the email. It was from a sender she didn't recognize._

Ms. Yagami,

I have included in this email documents pertaining to the case you are currently writing a report on. They contain evidence that has yet to be given to the police. I will deliver the documents to the authorities in due time. However, so you are prepared and ready for the public change of directions in the case, I'm giving the information to you now. This will put you at an advantage compared to your classmates.

Sincerely,

Four

 _Sayu blinked, rereading the email just to be sure she got everything correct. After that, she opened the attached files, skimming through the content. They proved that the company the suspect supposedly worked for was a front. A fraud. He'd set his own hours and faked being at work during the murders._

 _"Who...?" Sayu breathed, then bit her lip. Perhaps it was best not to think about it. Besides, she wasn't about to pass up free help like this._

 _._

* * *

 **A/N:** Wow, it's been a while. I'd rather not go into the details, but something personal came up and I didn't feel like continuing with this story. However, I'm back now, thanks to the wonderful reviews I've received. So please, keep giving feedback. Good or bad, I'll be happy regardless of what I get! It means a lot to me.

Onto other things...

This chapter probably sucks, and I'm really sorry about that. I tried hard to push it out there and get it done with. It's been so long since I've written for this, too; everything is new, like I'm out of my element.

Ah, but! I'm looking for a beta reader. Someone to bounce ideas off of and get the story flowing at a nicer pace (because I'm pretty sure the pacing stinks, especially in this recent chapter. Whoopsie.).If you're interested, let me know. Note, though, that you must have a FF.N account.


End file.
